OETHE'S.  WORKS 


^^^j;^2ii^^-^—'r''' -"•'--- ^-r--~'^-:-- 

' 


••* 


from  tne  RBrary  of  O.<E.  and: 
Mary  Maple  Jones 


A  gift  from  <Esther  (Doughtie  Trench, 
Jane  Vougktie  Taytor  &  Qicfianf*.  Vougktie  III 


University  of  Illinois  Library"  at  Urbana-Champaign 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    EDITON. 


WILHELM  MEISTER'S 


APPRENTICESHIP  AND  TRAVELS. 


JJtom  tfje  ©mnan. 


BY    THOMAS    CARLYLE. 


IN   TWO  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  L 


NEW   YORK: 

WOKTHINGTON  CO.,  28  LAFAYETTE  PLACE, 

1885. 


Copyright, 

BX  S.  JS.  CASSINO, 
1882. 


TROWS 

HINTING  AND  BOOKBINWNO  COMPANY, 
NEW  YORK. 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

BOOK  1 15 

BOOK  II 74 

-  BOOK  III 134 

BOOK  IV .       .        .        .        .        .185 

BOOK  V .    254 

BOOK  VI 320 

BOOK  VII.     ...  ...  ,372 


TO   THE   KEADER. 


THESE  two  translations,  "  Meister's  Apprenticeship  "  and 
"  Meister's  Travels,"  have  long  been  out  of  print,  but  never 
altogether  out  of  demand ;  nay,  it  would  seem,  the  originally 
somewhat  moderate  demand  has  gone  on  increasing,  and  con- 
tinues to  increase.  They  are,  therefore,  here  republished ; 
and  the  one  being  in  some  sort  a  sequel  to  the  other,  though 
in  rather  unexpected  sort,  they  are  now  printed  together. 
The  English  version  of  "Meister's  Travels"  has  been  ex- 
tracted, or  extricated,  from  a  compilation  of  very  various 
quality  named  "German  Romance,"  and  placed  by  the  side 
of  the  "  Apprenticeship,"  its  forerunner,  which,  in  the  trans- 
lated as  in  the  original  state,  appeared  hitherto  as  a  separate 
work. 

In  the  "Apprenticeship,"  the  first  of  these  translations, 
which  was  executed  some  fifteen  years  ago,  under  questiona- 
ble auspices,  I  have  made  many  little  changes,  but  could 
not,  unfortunately,  change  it  into  a  right  translation  :  it  hung, 
in  many  places,  stiff  and  labored,  too  like  some  unfortunate 
buckram  cloak  round  the  light,  harmonious  movement  of 
the  original,  —  and,  alas !  still  hangs  so,  here  and  there, 
and  ma}r  now  hang.  In  the  second  translation,  "  Meister's 
Travels,"  two  years  later  in  date,  I  have  changed  little  or 
nothing.  I  might  have  added  much ;  for  the  original,  since 
that  time,  was,  as  it  were,  taken  to  pieces  by  the  author 
himself  in  his  last  years,  and  constructed  anew,  and,  in  the 
final  edition  of  his  works,  appears  with  multifarious  inter- 
calations, giving  a  great  expansion,  both  of  size  and  of 
scope.  Not  pedagogy  only,  and  husbandry  and  art  and 
religion  and  human  conduct  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
but  geology,  astronomy,  cotton-spinning,  metallurgy,  ana- 

5 


6  TO   THE   READER. 

tomical  lecturing,  and  much  else,  are  typically  shadowed 
forth  in  this  second  form  of  the  "Travels,"  which,  how- 
ever, continues  a  fragment  like  the  first,  significantly  point- 
ing on  all  hands  towards  infinitude,  —  not  more  complete  than 
the  first  was,  or  indeed  perhaps  less  so.  It  will  well  reward 
the  trustful  student  of  Goethe  to  read  this  new  form  of  the 
''Travels,"  and  see  how  in  that  great  mind,  beaming  in 
mildest  mellow  splendor,  beaming  if  also  trembling,  like  a 
great  sun  on  the  verge  of  the  horizon,  near  now  to  its  long 
farewell,  all  these  things  were  illuminated  and  illustrated : 
but,  for  the  mere  English  reader,  there  are  probably  in  our 
prior  edition  of  the  "Travels"  already  novelties  enough; 
for  us,  at  all  events,  it  seemed  uuadvisable  to  meddle  with 
it  further  at  present. 

Goethe's  position  towards  the  English  public  is  greatly 
altered  since  these  translations  first  made  their  appearance. 
Criticisms  near  the  mark,  or  farther  from  the  mark,  or  even 
altogether  far  and  away  from  any  mark,  —  of  these  there  have 
been  enough.  These  pass  on  their  road :  the  man  and  his 
works  remain  what  they  are  and  were,  —  more  and  more 
recognizable  for  what  they  are.  Few  English  readers  can 
require  now  to  be  apprised  that  these  two  books,  named 
novels,  come  not  under  the  Minerva-Press  category,  nor 
ihe  Ballantyne-Press  category,  nor  any  such  category ;  that 
the  author  is  one  whose  secret,  by  no  means  worn  upon  his 
sleeve,  will  never,  by  any  ingenuity,  be  got  at  in  that  way. 

For  a  translator,  in  the  present  case,  it  is  enough  to 
reflect,  that  he  who  imports  into  his  own  country  any  true 
delineation,  a  rationally  spoken  word  on  any  subject,  has 
done  well.  Ours  is  a  wide  world,  peaceably  admitting  many 
different  modes  of  speech.  In  our  wide  world,  there  is  but 
one  altogether  fatal  personage,- —  the  dunce,  —  he  that  speaks 
irrationally,  that  sees  not,  and  yet  thinks  he  sees.  A  genu- 
ine seer  and  speaker,  under  what  conditions  soever,  shall  be 
welcome  to  us :  has  he  not  seen  somewhat  of  great  Nature 
our  common  mother's  bringing  forth,  —  seen  it,  loved  it,  laid 
his  heart  open  to  it  and  to  the  mother  of  it,  so  that  he 
can  now  rationally  speak  it  for  us?  He  is  our  brother, 
and  a  good,  not  a  bad,  man :  his  words  are  like  gold,  pre- 
cious, whether  stamped  in  our  mint,  or  in  what  mint  soever 
stamped. 

T.   CARLYLE. 

LONDON,  November,  1839. 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE 

TO  THE 

FIRST  EDITION  OP  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP, 


WHETHER  it  be  that  the  quantity  of  genius  among  our- 
selves and  the  French,  and  the  number  of  works  more 
lasting  than  brass  produced  by  it,  have  of  late  been  so  con- 
siderable as  to  make  us  independent  of  additional  supplies ; 
or  that,  in  our  ancient  aristocracy  of  intellect,  we  disdain 
to  be  assisted  by  the  Germans,  whom,  by  a  species  of  sec- 
ond sight,  we  have  discovered,  before  knowing  any  thing 
about  them,  to  be  a  tumid,  dreaming,  extravagant,  insane 
race  of  mortals,  —  certain  it  is,  that  hitherto  our  literary  inter- 
course with  that  nation  has  been  very  slight  and  precarious. 
After  a  brief  period  of  not  too  judicious  cordiality,  the 
acquaintance  on  our  part  was  altogether  dropped :  nor,  in 
the  few  years  since  we  partially  resumed  it,  have  our  feel- 
ings of  affection  or  esteem  been  materially  increased.  Our 
translators  are  unfortunate  in  their  selection  or  execution, 
or  the  public  is  tasteless  and  absurd  in  its  demands ;  for, 
with  scarcely  more  than  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  best 
works  of  Germany  have  lain  neglected,  or  worse  than  neg-. 
lected :  and  the  Germans  are  yet  utterly  unknown  to  us, 
Kotzebue  still  lives  in  our  minds  as  the  representative  of  a 
nation  that  despises  him  ;  Schiller  is  chiefly  known  to  us  by 
the  monstrous  production  of  his  boyhood ;  and  Klopstock 
by  a  hacked  and  mangled  image  of  his  -'  Messiah,"  in  which 
a  beautiful  poem  is  distorted  into  a  theosophic  rhapsody, 
and  the  brother  of  Virgil  and  Racine  ranks  little  higher  than 
the  author  of  "  Meditations  among  the  Tombs." 

But  of  all  these  people  there  is  none  that  has  been  more 
unjustly  dealt  with  than  Johann  Wolfgang  von  Goethe. 
For  half  a  century  the  admiration  —  we  might  almost  say 

T 


8  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

the  idol  —  of  his  countrymen,  to  ns  he  is  still  a  stranger. 
His  name,  long  echoed  and  re-echoed  through  reviews  and 
magazines,  has  become  familiar  to  our  ears ;  but  it  is  a 
sound  and  nothing  more  :  it  excites  no  definite  idea  in  almost 
any  mind.  To  such  as  know  him  by  the  faint  and  garbled 
version  of  his  "  Werther,"  Goethe  figures  as  a  sort  of  poetic 
Heraclitus  ;  some  woe-begone  hypochondriac,  whose  eyes  are 
overflowing  with  perpetual  tears,  whose  long  life  has  been 
spent  in  melting  into  ecstasy  at  the  sight  of  waterfalls  and 
clouds,  and  the  moral  sublime,  or  dissolving  into  hysterical 
wailings  over  hapless  love-stories,  and  the  miseries  of  human 
life.  They  are  not  aware  that  Goethe  smiles  at  this  per- 
formance of  his  youth,  or  that  the  German  Werther,  with 
all  his  faults,  is  a  very  different  person  from  his  English 
namesake ;  that  his  Sorrows  are  in  the  original  recorded  in 
a  tone  of  strength  and  sarcastic  emphasis,  of  which  the 
other  offers  no  vestige,  and  intermingled  with  touches  of 
powerful  thought,  glimpses  of  a  philosophy  deep  as  it  is 
bitter,  which  our  sagacious  translator  has  seen  proper  wholly 
to  omit.  Others,  again,  who  have  fallen  in  with  Retsch's 
"  Outlines  "  and  the  extracts  from  "  Faust,"  consider  Goethe 
as  a  wild  mystic,  a  dealer  in  demonology  and  osteology, 
who  draws  attention  by  the  aid  of  skeletons  and  evil  spirits, 
whose  excellence  it  is  to  be  extravagant,  whose  chief  aim 
it  is  to  do  what  no  one  but  himself  has  tried.  The  tyro  in 
German  may  tell  us  that  the  charm  of  v"  Faust"  is  alto- 
gether unconnected  with  its  preternatural  import ;  that  the 
work  delineates  the  fate  of  human  enthusiasm  struggling 
against  doubts  and  errors  from  within,  against  scepticism, 
contempt,  and  selfishness  from  without ;  and  that  the  witch- 
craft and  magic,  intended  merely  as  a  shadowy  frame  for 
so  complex  and  mysterious  a  picture  of  the  moral  world  and 
the  human  soul,  are  introduced  for  the  purpose,  not  so  much 
of  being  trembled  at  as  laughed  at.  The  voice  of  the  tyro 
is  not  listened  to  ;  our  indolence  takes  part  with  our  igno- 
rance;  "Faust"  continues  to  be  called  a  monster;  and 
Goethe  is  regarded  as  a  man  of  "some  genius,"  which  he 
has  perverted  to  produce  all  manner  of  misfashioned  prodi- 
gies, —  things  false,  abortive,  formless,  Gorgons  and  hydras, 
and  chimeras  dire. 

Now,  it  must  no  doubt  be  granted,  that,  so  long  as  our 
invaluable  constitution  is  preserved  in  its  pristine  purity, 
the  British  nation  may  exist  in  a  state  of  comparative  pros- 
perity with  very  inadequate  ideas  of  Goethe ;  but,  at  the 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

same  time,  the  present  arrangement  is  an  evil  in  its  kind,  — 
slight,  it  is  true,  and  easy  to  be  borne,  yet  still  more  easy 
to  be  remedied,  and  which,  therefore,  ought  to  have  been 
remedied  ere  now.  Minds  like  Goethe's  are  the  common 
property  of  all  nations ;  and,  for  many  reasons,  all  should 
have  correct  impressions  of  them. 

It  is  partly  with  the  view  of  doing  something  to  supply 
this  want,  that  "  Wilhelm  Meister's  Lehrjahre  "  is  now  pre- 
sented to  the  English  public.  Written  in  its  author's  forty- 
fifth  year,  embracing  hints  or  disquisitions  on  almost  every 
leading  point  in  life  and  literature,  it  affords  us  a  more  dis- 
tinct view  of  his  matured  genius,  his  manner  of  thought, 
and  favorite  subjects,  than  any  of  his  other  works.  Nor 
is  it  Goethe  alone  whom  it  portrays  :  the  prevailing  taste  of 
Germany  is  likewise  indicated  by  it.  Since  the  year  1795, 
when  it  first  appeared  at  Berlin,  numerous  editions  of  "  Meis- 
ter" have  been  printed:  critics  of  all  ranks,  and  some  of 
them  dissenting  widely  from  its  doctrines,  have  loaded  it 
with  encomiums ;  its  songs  and  poems  are  familiar  to  every 
German  ear ;  the  people  read  it,  and  speak  of  it,  with  an 
admiration  approaching  in  many  cases  to  enthusiasm. 

That  it  will  be  equally  successful  in  England,  I  am  far 
indeed  from  anticipating.  Apart  from  the  above  considera- 
tions, —  from  the  curiosity,  intelligent  or  idle,  which  it  may 
awaken,  —  the  number  of  admiring,  or  even  approving, 
judges  it  will  find  can  scarcely  fail  of  being  very  limited. 
To  the  great  mass  of  readers,  who  read  to  drive  away  the 
tedium  of  mental  vacancy,  employing  the  crude  phantas- 
magoria of  a  modern  novel,  as  their  grandfathers  employed 
tobacco  and  diluted  brandy,  "  Wilhelm  Meister"  will  appear 
beyond  endurance  weary,  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable. 
Those,  in  particular,  who  take  delight  in  "  King  Cambyses' 
vein,"  and  open  "  Meister  "  with  the  thought  of  "  Werther  " 
in  their  minds,  will  soon  pause  in  utter  dismay ;  and  their 
paroxysm  of  dismay  will  pass  by  degrees  into  unspeakable 
contempt.  Of  romance  interest  there  is  next  to  none  in 
"  Meister;  "  the  characters  are  samples  to  judge  of,  rather 
than  persons  to  love  or  hate ;  the  incidents  are  contrived 
for  other  objects  than  moving  or  affrighting  us ;  the  hero 
is  a  milksop,  whom,  with  all  his  gifts,  it  takes  an  effort  to 
avoid  despising.  The  author  himself,  far  from  "  doing  it 
in  a  passion,"  wears  a  face  of  the  most  still  indifference 
throughout  the  whole  affair :  often  it  is  even  wrinkled  by  a 
slight  sardonic  grin.  For  the  friends  of  the  sublime,  then, 


10  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

—  for  those  who  cannot  do  without  heroical  sentiments,  and 
"moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field," — there  is  nothing 
here  that  can  be  of  any  service. 

Nor  among  readers  of  a  far  higher  character,  can  it  be 
expected  that  many  will  take  the  praiseworthy  pains  of 
Germans,  reverential  of  their  favorite  author,  and  anxious 
to  hunt  out  his  most  elusive  charms.  Few  among  us  will 
disturb  themselves  about  the  allegories  and  typical  allusions 
of  the  work ;  will  stop  to  inquire  whether  it  includes  a 
remote  emblem  of  human  culture,  or  includes  no  such  mat- 
ter ;  whether  this  is  a  light,  airy  sketch  of  the  development  of 
man  in  all  his  endowments  and  faculties,  gradually  proceed- 
ing from  the  first  rude  exhibitions  of  puppets  and  mounte- 
banks, through  the  perfection  of  poetic  and  dramatic  art, 
up  to  the  unfolding  of  the  principle  of  religion,  and  the 
greatest  of  all  arts,  —  the  art  of  life, — or  is  nothing  more 
than  a  bungled  piece  of  patchwork,  presenting  in  the  shape 
of  a  novel  much  that  should  have  been  suppressed  entirely, 
or  at  least  given  out  by  way  of  lecture.  Whether  the  char- 
acters do  or  do  not  represent  distinct  classes  of  men,  includ- 
ing various  stages  of  human  nature,  from  the  gay,  material 
vivacity  of  Philina  to  the  severe  moral  grandeur  of  the 
uncle  and  the  splendid  accomplishment  of  Lothario,  will  to 
most  of  us  be  of  small  importance ;  and  the  everlasting 
disquisitions  about  plays  and  players,  and  politeness  and 
activity,  and  art  and  nature,  will  weary  many  a  mind  that 
knows  not  and  heeds  not  whether  they  are  true  or  false. 
Yet  every  man's  judgment  is,  in  this  free  country,  a  lamp 
to  himself :  whoever  is  displeased  will  censure ;  and  many, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  will  insist  on  judging  "Meister"  by  the 
common  rule,  and,  what  is  worse,  condemning  it,  let  Schlegel 
bawl  as  loudly  as  he  pleases.  "To  judge,"  says  he,  "of 
this  book,  —  new  and  peculiar  as  it  is,  and  only  to  be  under- 
stood and  learned  from  itself,  by  our  common  notion  of  the 
novel,  a  notion  pieced  together  and  produced  out  of  custom 
and  belief,  out  of  accidental  and  arbitrary  requisitions, — 
is  as  if  a  child  should  grasp  at  the  moon  and  stars,  and 
insist  on  packing  them  into  its  toy -box."1  Unhappily  the 
most  of  us  have  boxes,  and  some  of  them  are  very  small. 

Yet,  independently  of  these  its  more  recondite  and  dubi- 
ous qualities,  there  are  beauties  in  "  Meister  "  which  cannot 
but  secure  it  some  degree  of  favor  at  the  hands  of  many. 
The  philosophical  discussions  it  contains ;  its  keen  glances 

1  Charakteristik  dee  Meister. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE.  11 

into  life  and  art ;  the  minute  and  skilful  delineation  of  men  ; 
the  lively,  genuine  exhibition  of  the  scenes  they  move  in ; 
the  occasional  touches  of  eloquence  and  tenderness,  and 
even  of  poetry,  the  very  essence  of  poetry ;  the  quantity 
of  thought  and  knowledge  embodied  in  a  style  so  rich  in 
general  felicities,  of  which,  at  least,  the  new  and  sometimes 
exquisitely  happy  metaphors  have  been  preserved,  —  cannot 
wholly  escape  an  observing  reader,  even  on  the  most  cursory 
perusal.  To  those  who  have  formed  for  themselves  a  pic- 
ture of  the  world,  who  have  drawn  out,  from  the  thousand 
variable  circumstances  of  their  being,  a  philosophy  of  life, 
it  will  be  interesting  and  instructive  to  see  how  man  and 
his  concerns  are  represented  in  the  first  of  European  minds  : 
to  those  who  have  penetrated  to  the  limits  of  their  own  con- 
ceptions, and  wrestled  with  thoughts  and  feelings  too  high 
for  them,  it  will  be  pleasing  and  profitable  to  see  the  horizon 
of  their  certainties  widened,  or  at  least  separated  with  a 
firmer  line  from  the  impalpable  obscure  which  surrounds 
it  on  every  side.  Such  persons  I  can  fearlessly  invite  to 
study  "Meister."  Across  the  disfigurement  of  a  transla- 
tion, they  will  not  fail  to  discern  indubitable  traces  of  the 
greatest  genius  in  our  times.  And  the  longer  they  study, 
they  are  likely  to  discern  them  the  more  distinctly.  New 
charms  will  successively  arise  to  view ;  and  of  the  many 
apparent  blemishes,  while  a  few  superficial  ones  may  be 
confirmed,  the  greater  and  more  important  part  will  vanish, 
or  even  change  from  dark  to  bright.  For,  if  I  mistake  not, 
it  is  with  "  Meister  "  as  with  every  work  of  real  and  abiding 
excellence, — the  first  glance  is  the  least  favorable.  A  pic- 
ture of  Raphael,  a  Greek  statue,  a  play  of  Sophocles  or 
Shakspeare,  appears  insignificant  to  the  unpractised  eye ; 
and  not  till  after  long  and  patient  and  intense  examination, 
do  we  begin  to  descry  the  earnest  features  of  that  beauty, 
which  has  its  foundation  in  the  deepest  nature  of  man,  and 
will  continue  to  be  pleasing  through  all  ages. 

If  this  appear  excessive  praise,  as  applied  in  any  sense 
to  "Meister,"  the  curious  sceptic  is  desired  to  read  and 
weigh  the  whole  performance,  with  all  its  references,  rela- 
tions, purposes,  and  to  pronounce  his  verdict  after  he  has 
clearly  seized  and  appreciated  them  all.  Or,  if  a  more 
faint  conviction  will  suffice,  let  him  turn  to  the  picture  of 
Wilhelm's  states  of  mind  in  the  end  of  the  first  book,  and 
the  beginning  of  the  second  ;  the  eulogies  of  commerce  and 
poesy,  which  follow ;  the  description  of  Hamlet ;  the  char- 


12  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

acter  of  histrionic  life  in  Serlo  and  Aurelia ;  that  of  sedate 
and  lofty  manhood  in  the  uncle  and  Lothario.  But,  above 
all,  let  him  turn  to  the  history  of  Mignon.  This  mysterious 
child,  at  first  neglected  by  the  reader,  gradually  forced  on 
his  attention,  at  length  overpowers  him  with  an  emotion 
more  deep  and  thrilling  than  any  poet  since  the  days  of 
Shakspeare  has  succeeded  in  producing.  The  daughter  of 
enthusiasm,  rapture,  passion,  and  despair,  she  is  of  the 
earth,  but  not  earthly.  When  she  glides  before  us  through 
the  light  mazes  of  her  fairy  dance,  or  twangs  her  cithern 
to  the  notes  of  her  homesick  verses,  or  whirls  her  tambou- 
rine and  hurries  round  us  like  an  antique  Maenad,  we  could 
almost  fancy  her  a  spirit ;  so  pure  is  she,  so  full  of  fervor, 
so  disengaged  from  the  clay  of  this  world.  And  when  all 
the  fearful  particulars  of  her  story  are  at  length  laid  to- 
gether, and  we  behold  in  connected  order  the  image  of  her 
hapless  existence,  there  is,  in  those  dim  recollections,  —  those 
feelings  so  simple,  so  impassioned  and  unspeakable,  con- 
suming the  closely  shrouded,  woe-struck,  yet  ethereal  spirit 
of  the  poor  creature, — something  which  searches  into  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  soul.  It  is  not  tears  which  her  fate 
calls  forth,  but  a  feeling  far  too  deep  for  tears.  The  very 
fire  of  heaven  seems  miserably  quenched  among  the  obstruc- 
tions of  this  earth.  Her  little  heart,  so  noble  and  so  help- 
less, perishes  before  the  smallest  of  its  many  beauties  is 
unfolded ;  and  all  its  loves  and  thoughts  and  longings  do 
but  add  another  pang  to  death,  and  sink  to  silence  utter  and 
eternal.  It  is  as  if  the  gloomy  porch  of  Dis,  and  his  pale 
kingdoms,  were  realized  and  set  before  us,  and  we  heard 
the  ineffectual  wail  of  infants  reverberating  from  within 
their  prison-walls  forever. 

"  Continub  auditse  voces,  vagitus  et  ingens, 
Infantumque  anirnae  flentes  in  limine  primo: 
Quos  dulcis  vitaj  exsortes,  et  ab  ubere  raptos, 
Abstulit  atra  dies,  et  funere  mersit  acerbo." 

The  history  of  Mignon  runs  like  a  thread  of  gold  through 
the  tissue  of  the  narrative,  connecting  with  the  heart  much 
that  were  else  addressed  only  to  the  head.  Philosophy  and 
eloquence  might  have  done  the  rest,  but  this  is  poetry  in 
the  highest  meaning  of  the  word.  It  must  be  for  the  power 
of  producing  such  creations  and  emotions,  that  Goethe  is 
by  many  of  his  countrymen  ranked  at  the  side  of  Homer 
and  Shakspeare,  as  one  of  the  only  three  men  of  genius 
that  have  ever  lived. 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE.  13 

But  my  business  here  is  not  to  judge  of  "Meister"  or 
its  author,  it  is  only  to  prepare  others  for  judging  it ;  and 
for  this  purpose  the  most  that  I  had  room  to  say  is  said. 
All  I  ask  in  the  name  of  this  illustrious  foreigner  is,  that 
the  court  which  tries  him  be  pure,  and  the  jury  instructed 
in  the  cause ;  that  the  work  be  not  condemned  for  wanting 
what  it  was  not  meant  to  have,  and  by  persons  nowise 
called  to  pass  sentence  on  it. 

Respecting  my  own  humble  share  in  the  adventure,  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  say  any  thing.  Fidelity  is  all  the 
merit  I  have  aimed  at :  to  convey  the  author's  sentiments, 
as  he  himself  expressed  them ;  to  follow  the  original,  in  all 
the  variations  of  its  style,  —  has  been  my  constant  endeavor. 
In  many  points,  both  literary  and  moral,  I  could  have  wished 
devoutly  that  he  had  not  written  as  he  has  done ;  but  to 
alter  any  thing  was  not  in  my  commission.  The  literary 
and  moral  persuasions  of  a  man  like  Goethe  are  objects  of 
a  rational  curiosity,  and  the  duty  of  a  translator  is  simple 
and  distinct.  Accordingly,  except  a  few  phrases  and  sen- 
tences, not  in  all  amounting  to  a  page,  which  I  have  dropped 
as  evidently  unfit  for  the  English  taste,  I  have  studied  to 
present  the  work  exactly  as  it  stands  in  German.  That  my 
success  has  been  indifferent,  I  already  know  too  well.  In 
rendering  the  ideas  of  Goethe,  often  so  subtle,  so  capriciously 
expressive,  the  meaning  was  not  always  easy  to  seize,  or  to 
convey  with  adequate  effect.  There  were  thin  tints  of  style, 
shades  of  ridicule  or  tenderness  or  solemnity,  resting  over 
large  spaces,  and  so  slight  as  almost  to  be  evanescent : 
some  of  these  I  may  have  failed  to  see ;  to  many  of  them 
I  could  do  no  justice.  Nor,  even  in  plainer  matters,  can  I 
pride  myself  in  having  always  imitated  his  colloquial  famil- 
iarity without  falling  into  sentences  bald  and  rugged,  into 
idioms  harsh  or  foreign ;  or  in  having  copied  the  flowing 
oratory  of  other  passages,  without  at  times  exaggerating  or 
defacing  the  swelling  cadences  and  phrases  of  my  original. 
But  what  work,  from  the  translating  of  a  German  novel  to 
the  writing  of  an  epic,  was  ever  as  the  workman  wished 
and  meant  it?  This  version  of  "Meister,"  with  whatever 
faults  it  may  have,  I  honestly  present  to  my  countrymen : 
if,  while  it  makes  any  portion  of  them  more  familiar  with 
the  richest,  most  gifted  of  living  minds,  it  increase  their 
knowledge,  or  even  afford  them  a  transient  amusement,  they 
will  excuse  its  errors,  and  I  shall  be  far  more  than  paid  for 
all  my  labor. 


MEISTEE'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK  L 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  play  was  late  in  breaking  up :  old  Barbara  went  more 
than  once  to  the  window,  and  listened  for  the  sound  of  car- 
riages. She  was  waiting  for  Mariana,  her  pretty  mistress, 
who  had  that  night,  in  the  afterpiece,  been  acting  the  part 
of  a  young  officer,  to  the  no  small  delight  of  the  public. 
Barbara's  impatience  was  greater  than  it  used  to  be,  when 
she  had  nothing  but  a  frugal  supper  to  present:  on  this 
occasion  Mariana  was  to  be  surprised  with  a  packet,  which 
Norberg,  a  young  and  wealthy  merchant,  had  sent  by  the 
post,  to  show  that  in  absence  he  still  thought  of  his  love. 

As  an  old  servant,  as  confidant,  counsellor,  manager, 
and  housekeeper,  Barbara  assumed  the  privilege  of  opening 
seals  ;  and  this  evening  she  had  the  less  been  able  to  restrain 
her  curiosity,  as  the  favor  of  the  open-handed  gallant  was 
more  a  matter  of  anxiety  with  herself  than  with  her  mistress. 
On  breaking  up  the  packet,  she  had  found,  with  unfeigned 
satisfaction,  that  it  held  a  piece  of  fine  muslin  and  some 
ribbons  of  the  newest  fashion,  for  Mariana  ;  with  a  quantity 
of  calico,  two  or  three  neckerchiefs,  and  a  moderate  rouleau 
of  money,  for  herself.  Her  esteem  for  the  absent  Norberg 
was  of  course  unbounded :  she  meditated  only  how  she  might 
best  present  him  to  the  mind  of  Mariana,  best  bring  to  her 
recollection  what  she  owed  him,  and  what  he  had  a  right 
to  expect  from  her  fidelity  and  thankfulness. 

The  muslin,  with  the  ribbons  half  unrolled,  to  set  it  off 

15 


16  MEISTER'S  APrilEXTICESHIP. 

by  their  colors,  lay  like  a  Christmas  present  on  the  small 
table  ;  the  position  of  the  lights  increased  the  glitter  of  the 
gilt ;  all  was  in  order,  when  the  old  woman  heard  Mariana's 
step  on  the  stairs,  and  hastened  to  meet  her.  But  what  was 
her  disappointment,  when  the  little  female  officer,  without 
deigning  to  regard  her  caresses,  rushed  past  her  with  unusual 
speed  and  agitation,  threw  her  hat  and  sword  upon  the  table, 
and  walked  hastily  up  and  down,  bestowing  not  a  look  on 
the  lights,  or  any  portion  of  the  apparatus. 

"What  ails  thee,  my  darling?"  exclaimed  the  astonished 
Barbara.  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  what  is  the  matter?  Look 
here,  my  pretty  child !  See  what  a  present !  And  who 
could  have  sent  it  but  thy  kindest  of  friends  ?  Norberg  has 
given  thee  the  muslin  to  make  a  night-gown  of ;  he  will 
soon  be  here  himself ;  he  seems  to  be  fonder  and  more  gen- 
erous than  ever." 

Barbara  went  to  the  table,  that  she  might  exhibit  the 
memorials  with  which  Norberg  had  likewise  honored  her, 
when  Mariana,  turning  away  from  the  presents,  exclaimed 
with  vehemence,  "Off!  off!  Not  a  word  of  all  this  to- 
night. I  have  yielded  to  thee  ;  thou  hast  willed  it ;  be  it  so ! 
When  Norberg  comes,  I  am  his,  am  thine,  am  any  one's ; 
make  of  me  what  thou  pleasest ;  but  till  then  I  will  be  my 
own  ;  and,  if  thou  hadst  a  thousand  tongues,  thou  shouldst 
never  talk  me  from  my  purpose.  All,  all  that  is  my  own 
will  I  give  up  to  him  who  loves  me,  whom  I  love.  No  sour 
faces  !  I  will  abandon  myself  to  this  affection,  as  if  it  were 
to  last  forever." 

The  old  damsel  had  abundance  of  objections  and  serious 
considerations  to  allege :  in  the  progress  of  the  dialogue, 
she  was  growing  bitter  and  keen,  when  Mariana  sprang  at 
her,  and  seized  her  by  the  breast.  The  old  damsel  laughed 
aloud.  "  I  must  have  a  care,"  she  cried,  "  that  you  don't 
get  into  pantaloons  again,  if  I  mean  to  be  sure  of  my  life. 
Come,  doff  you !  The  girl  will  beg  my  pardon  for  the  fool- 
ish things  the  boy  is  doing  to  me.  Off  with  the  frock.  Off 
with  them  all.  The  dress  beseems  yon  not ;  it  is  dangerous 
for  you,  I  observe  ;  the  epaulets  make  you  too  bold." 

Thus  speaking,  she  laid  hands  upon  her  mistress :  Mari- 
ana pushed  her  off,  exclaiming,  "  Not  so  fast!  I  expect  a 
visit  to-night." 

"  Visit !  "  rejoined  Barbara :  "  you  surely  do  not  look  for 
Meister,  the  young,  sof t-hearted,  callow  merchant's  sou  ?  " 

"Just  for  him,"  replied  Mariana. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  17 

"  Generosity  appears  to  be  growing  your  ruling  passion," 
said  the  old  woman  with  a  grin  :  "  you  connect  yourself 
with  minors  and  moneyless  people,  as  if  they  were  the 
chosen  of  the  earth.  Doubtless  it  is  charming  to  be  wor- 
shipped as  a  benefactress." 

"  Jeer  as  thou  pleasest.  I  love  him !  I  love  him !  With 
what  rapture  do  I  now,  for  the  first  time,  speak  the  word ! 
This  is  the  passion  I  have  mimicked  so  often,  when  I  knew 
not  what  it  meant.  Yes !  I  will  throw  myself  about  his 
neck :  I  will  clasp  him  as  if  I  could  hold  him  forever.  I 
will  show  him  all  my  love,  will  enjoy  all  his  in  .its  whole 
extent." 

"Moderate  yourself,"  said  the  old  dame  coolly,  "mod- 
erate yourself.  A  single  word  will  interrupt  your  rapture : 
Norberg  is  coming !  Coming  in  a  fortnight !  Here  is  the 
letter  that  arrived  with  the  packet." 

"And,  though  the  morrow  were  to  rob  me  of  my  friend, 
I  would  conceal  it  from  myself  and  him.  A  fortnight !  An 
age  !  Within  a  fortnight,  what  may  not  happen,  what  may 
not  alter?" 

Here  Wilhelm  entered.  We  need  not  say  how  fast  she 
flew  to  meet  him,  with  what  rapture  he  clasped  the  red  uni- 
form, and  pressed  the  beautiful  wearer  of  it  to  his  bosom. 
It  is  not  for  us  to  describe  the  blessedness  of  two  lovers. 
Old  Barbara  went  grumbling  away  :  we  shall  retire  with  her, 
and  leave  the  happy  two  alone. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHEN  Wilhelm  saluted  his  mother  next  morning,  she 
informed  him  that  his  father  was  very  greatly  discontented 
with  him,  and  meant  to  forbid  him  these  daily  visits  to  the 
playhouse.  "  Though  I  myself  often  go  with  pleasure  to  the 
theatre,"  she  continued,  "I  could  almost  detest  it  entirely, 
when  I  think  that  our  fireside-peace  is  broken  by  your  exces- 
sive passion  for  that  amusement.  Your  father  is  ever  re- 
peating, 'What  is  the  use  of  it?  How  can  any  one  waste 
his  time  so  ? '  " 

"He  has  told  me  this  already,"  said  Wilhelm,  "and 
perhaps  I  answered  him  too  hastily  ;  but,  for  Heaven's  sake, 


18  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

mother,  is  nothing,  then,  of  use  but  what  immediately  puts 
money  in  our  purse?  but  what  procures  us  some  property 
that  we  can  lay  our  hands  on?  Had  we  not,  for  instance, 
room  enough  in  the  old  house  ?  and  was  it  indispensable  to 
build  a  new  one?  Does  not  my  father  every  year  expend 
a  large  part  of  his  profit  in  ornamenting  his  chambers  ?  Are 
these  silk  carpets,  this  English  furniture,  likewise  of  no 
use?  Might  we  not  content  ourselves  with  worse?  For 
my  own  part,  I  confess,  these  striped  walls,  these  hundred 
times  repeated  flowers  and  knots  and  baskets  and  figures, 
produce  a  really  disagreeable  effect  upon  me.  At  best,  they 
but  remind  me  of  the  front  curtain  of  our  theatre.  But 
what  a  different  thing  it  is  to  sit  and  look  at  that !  There, 
if  you  must  wait  for  a  while,  you  are  always  sure  that  it 
will  rise  at  last,  and  disclose  to  you  a  thousand  curious 
objects  to  entertain,  to  instruct,  and  to  exalt  you." 

"  But  you  go  to  excess  with  it,"  said  the  mother.  "  Your 
father  wishes  to  be  entertained  in  the  evenings  as  well  as 
3rou :  besides,  he  thinks  it  diverts  your  attention  ;  and,  when 
he  grows  ill-humored  on  the  subject,  it  is  I  that  must  bear 
the  blame.  How  often  have  I  been  upbraided  with  that 
miserable  puppet-show,  which  I  was  unlucky  enough  to  pro- 
vide for  you  at  Christmas,  twelve  years  ago !  It  was  the 
first  thing  that  put  these  plays  into  your  head." 

"  Oh,  do  not  blame  the  poor  puppets !  do  not  repent  of 
your  love  and  motherly  care  !  It  was  the  only  happy  hour 
I  had  enjoyed  in  the  new  empty  house.  I  never  can  forget 
that  hour ;  I  see  it  still  before  me ;  I  recollect  how  surprised 
I  was,  when,  after  we  had  got  our  customary  presents,  you 
made  us  seat  ourselves  before  the  door  that  leads  to  the 
other  room.  The  door  opened,  but  not,  as  formerly,  to  let 
us  pass  and  repass  :  the  entrance  was  occupied  by  an  unex- 
pected show.  Within  it  rose  a  porch,  concealed  by  a  mys- 
terious curtain.  All  of  us  were  standing  at  a  distance :  our 
eagerness  to  see  what  glittering  or  jingling  article  lay  hid 
behind  the  half-transparent  veil  was  mounting  higher  and 
higher,  when  you  bade  us  each  sit  down  upon  Ms  stool,  and 
wait  with  patience. 

"At  length  all  of  us  were  seated  and  silent:  a  whistle 
gave  the  signal ;  the  curtain  rolled  aloft,  and  showed  us  the 
interior  of  the  temple,  painted  in  deep-red  colors.  The  high- 
priest  Samuel  appeared  with  Jonathan,  and  their  strange 
alternating  voices  seemed  to  me  the  most  striking  thing  on 
earth.  Shortly  after  entered  Saul,  overwhelmed  with  con- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  19 

fusion  at  the  impertinence  of  that  heavy-limbed  warrior,  who 
had  defied  him  and  all  his  people.  But  how  glad  was  I  when 
the  little  dapper  son  of  Jesse,  with  his  crook  and  shepherd's 
pouch  and  sling,  came  hopping  forth,  and  said,  '  Dread  king 
and  sovereign  lord,  let  no  one's  heart  sink  down  because  of 
this :  if  your  Majesty  will  grant  me  leave,  I  will  go  out  to 
battle  with  this  blustering  giant ! '  Here  ended  the  first  act, 
leaving  the  spectators  more  curious  than  ever  to  see  what 
further  would  happen  ;  each  praying  that  the  music  might 
soon  be  done.  At  last  the  curtain  rose  again.  David  de- 
voted the  flesh  of  the  monster  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field:  the  Philistine  scorned  and  bullied  him, 
stamped  mightily  with  both  his  feet,  and  at  length  fell  like 
a  mass  of  clay,  affording  a  splendid  termination  to  the  piece. 
And  then  the  virgins  sang,  '  Saul  hath  slain  his  thousands, 
but  David  his  ten  thousands  ! '  The  giant's  head  was  borne 
before  his  little  victor,  who  received  the  king's  beautiful 
daughter  to  wife.  Yet  withal,  I  remember,  I  was  vexed 
at  the  dwarfish  stature  of  this  lucky  prince ;  for  the  great 
Goliath  and  the  small  David  had  both  been  formed,  accord- 
ing to  the  common  notion,  with  a  due  regard  to  their  figures 
and  proportions.  I  pra}-  you,  mother,  tell  me  what  has  now 
become  of  those  puppets?  I  promised  to  show  them  to  a 
friend,  whom  I  was  lately  entertaining  with  a  history  of  all 
this  child's  work." 

"  I  can  easily  conceive,"  said  the  mother,  "  how  these 
things  should  stick  so  firmly  in  your  mind :  I  well  remember 
what  an  interest  you  took  in  them,  —  how  you  stole  the  little 
book  from  me,  and  learned  the  whole  piece  by  heart.  I  first 
noticed  it  one  evening  when  you  had  made  a  Goliath  and  a 
David  of  wax :  you  set  them  both  to  declaim  against  each 
other,  and  at  length  gave  a  deadly  stab  to  the  giant,  fixing 
his  shapeless  head,  stuck  upon  a  large  pin  with  a  wax  han- 
dle, in  little  David's  hand.  I  then  felt  such  a  motherly  con- 
tentment at  your  fine  recitation  and  good  memory,  that  I 
resolved  to  give  you  up  the  whole  wooden  troop  to  your  own 
disposal.  I  did  not  then  foresee  that  it  would  cause  me  so 
many  heavy  hours." 

"Do  not  repent  of  it,"  said  Wilhelm:  "this  little  sport 
has  often  made  us  happy."  So  saying,  he  got  the  keys, 
made  haste  to  find  the  puppets,  and,  for  a  moment,  was 
transported  back  into  those  times  when  they  almost  seemed 
to  him  alive,  when  he  felt  as  if  he  himself  could  give  them 
life  by  the  cunning  of  his  voice  and  the  movements  of  his 


20  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hands.     He  took  them  to  his  room,  and  locked  them  up  with 
care. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

IF  the  first  love  is  indeed,  as  I  hear  it  everywhere  main- 
tained to  be,  the  most  delicious  feeling  which  the  heart  of 
man,  before  it  or  after,  can  experience,  then  our  hero 
must  be  reckoned  doubly  happjr,  as  permitted  to  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  this  chosen  period  in  all  its  fulness.  Few  men 
are  so  peculiarly  favored :  by  far  the  greater  part  are  led  by 
the  feelings  of  their  youth  into  nothing  but  a  school  of  hard- 
ship, where,  after  a  stinted  and  checkered  season  of  enjoy- 
ment, they  are  at  length  constrained  to  renounce  their 
dearest  wishes,  and  to  learn  forever  to  dispense  with  what 
once  hovered  before  them  as  the  highest  happiness  of  exist- 
ence. 

Wilhelm's  passion  for  that  charming  girl  now  soared  aloft 
on  the  wings  of  imagination.  After  a  short  acquaintance,  he 
had  gained  her  affections  :  he  found  himself  in  possession  of 
a  being,  whom,  with  all  his  heart,  he  not  only  loved,  but 
honored  ;  for  she  had  first  appeared  before  him  in  the  flatter- 
ing light  of  theatric  pomp,  and  his  passion  for  the  stage  com- 
bined itself  with  his  earliest  love  for  woman.  His  youth 
allowed  him  to  enjoy  rich  pleasures,  which  the  activity  of  his 
fancy  exalted  and  maintained.  The  situation  of  his  mis- 
tress, too,  gave  a  turn  to  her  conduct  which  greatly  enliv- 
ened his  emotions.  The  fear  lest  her  lover  might,  before  the 
tune,  detect  the  real  state  in  which  she  stood,  diffused  over 
all  her  conduct  an  interesting  tinge  of  anxiety  and  bashful- 
ness  ;  her  attachment  to  the  youth  was  deep ;  her  very  in- 
quietude appeared  but  to  augment  her  tenderness ;  she  was 
the  loveliest  of  creatures  while  beside  him. 

When  the  first  tumult  of  joy  had  passed,  and  our  friend 
began  to  look  back  upon  his  life  and  its  concerns,  every 
thing  appeared  new  to  him  :  his  duties  seemed  holier,  his  incli- 
nations keener,  his  knowledge  clearer,  his  talents  stronger, 
his  purposes  more  decided.  Accordingly,  he  soon  fell  upon 
a  plan  to  avoid  the  reproaches  of  his  father,  to  still  the  cares 
of  his  motherland,  at  the  same  time,  to  enjoy  Mariana's  love 
without  disturbance.  Through  the  day  he  punctually  trans- 


MINISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  21 

acted  his  business,  commonly  forbore  attending  the  theatre, 
strove  to  be  entertaining  at  table  in  the  evening ;  and,  when 
all  were  asleep,  he  glided  softly  out  into  the  garden,  and 
hastened,  wrapped  up  in  his  mantle,  with  all  the  feelings  of 
Leander  in  his  bosom,  to  meet  his  mistress  without  delay. 

"What  is  this  you  bring?"  inquired  Mariana,  as  he  en- 
tered one  evening,  with  a  bundle,  which  Barbara,  in  hopes  it 
might  turn  out  to  be  some  valuable  present,  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  with  great  attention.  "You  will  never  guess,"  said 
Wilhelm. 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  Mariana,  great  the  scorn  of  Bar- 
bara, when  the  napkin,  being  loosened,  gave  to  view  a  per- 
plexed multitude  of  span-long  puppets.  Mariana  laughed 
aloud,  as  Wilhelm  set  himself  to  disentangle  the  confusion 
of  the  wires,  and  show  her  each  figure  by  itself.  Barbara 
glided  sulkily  out  of  the  room. 

A  very  little  thing  will  entertain  two  lovers ;  and  accord- 
ingly our  friends,  this  evening,  were  as  happy  as  they  wished 
to  be.  The  little  troop  was  mustered :  each  figure  was  mi- 
nutely examined,  and  laughed  at,  in  its  turn.  King  Saul, 
with  his  golden  crown  and  his  black  velvet  robe,  Mariana 
did  not  like :  he  looked,  she  said,  too  stiff  and  pedantic. 
She  was  far  better  pleased  with  Jonathan,  his  sleek  chin,  his 
turban,  his  cloak  of  red  and  yellow.  She  soon  got  the  art 
of  turning  him  deftly  on  his  wire :  she  made  him  bow,  and 
repeat  declarations  of  love.  On  the  other  hand,  she  refused 
to  give  the  least  attention  to  the  prophet  Samuel ;  though 
Wilhelm  commended  the  pontifical  breastplate,  and  told  her 
that  the  taffeta  of  the  cassock  had  been  taken  from  a  gown 
of  his  own  grandmother's.  David  she  thought  too  small ; 
Goliath  was  too  big ;  she  held  by  Jonathan.  She  grew  to 
manage  him  so  featly,  and  at  last  to  extend  her  caresses 
from  the  puppet  to  its  owner,  that,  on  this  occasion,  as  on 
others,  a  silly  sport  became  the  introduction  to  happy  hours. 

Their  soft,  sweet  dreams  were  broken  in  upon  by  a  noise 
which  arose  on  the  street.  Mariana  called  for  the  old  dame, 
who,  as  usual,  was  occupied  in  furbishing  the  changeful 
materials  of  the  playhouse  wardrobe  for  the  service  of  the 
play  next  to  be  acted.  Barbara  said  the  disturbance  arose 
from  a  set  of  jolly  companions,  who  were  just  then  sallying 
out  of  the  Italian  tavern  hard  by,  where  they  had  been  busy 
discussing  fresh  oysters,  a  cargo  of  which  had  just  arrived, 
and  by  no  means  sparing  their  champagne. 

"Pity,"  Mariana  said,  "  that  we  did  not  think  of  it  in 


22  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

time:  we  might  have  had  some  entertainment  to  our' 
selves." 

"It  is  not  yet  too  late,"  said  Wilhelm,  giving  Barbara 
a  louis-d'or:  "  get  us  what  we  want,  then  come  and  take  a 
share  with  us." 

The  old  dame  made  speedy  work :  erelong  a  trimly  cov- 
ered table,  with  a  neat  collation,  stood  before  the  lovers. 
They  made  Barbara  sit  with  them  :  they  ate  and  drank,  and 
enjoyed  themselves. 

On  such  occasions,  there  is  never  want  of  enough  to  say. 
Mariana  soon  took  up  little  Jonathan  again,  and  the  old 
dame  turned  the  conversation  upon  Wilhelm's  favorite  topic. 
"  You  were  once  telling  us,"  she  said,  "  about  the  first  exhi- 
bition of  a  puppet-show  on  Christmas  Eve  :  I  remember  you 
were  interrupted  just  as  the  ballet  was  going  to  begin.  We 
have  now  the  pleasure  of  a  personal  acquaintance  with  the 
honorable  company  by  whom  those  wonderful  effects  were 
brought  about." 

"Oh,  yes  ! "  cried  Mariana :  "  do  tell  us  how  it  all  went  on, 
and  how  you  felt  then." 

"It  is  a  fine  emotion,  Mariana,"  said  the  youth,  "when 
we  bethink  ourselves  of  old  times,  and  old,  harmless  errors, 
especially  if  this  is  at  a  period  when  we  have  happily  gained 
some  elevation,  from  which  we  can  look  around  us,  and  survey 
the  path  we  have  left  behind.  It  is  so  pleasant  to  think,  with 
composure  and  satisfaction,  of  many  obstacles,  which  often 
with  painful  feelings  we  may  have  regarded  as  invincible,  — 
pleasant  to  compare  what  we  now  are  with  what  we  then  were 
struggling  to  become.  But  I  am  happy  above  others  in  this 
matter,  that  I  speak  to  you  about  the  past,  at  a  moment  when 
I  can  also  look  forth  into  the  blooming  country,  which  we  are 
yet  to  wander  through  together,  hand  in  hand." 

"  But  how  was  it  with  the  ballet?"  said  Barbara.  "  I  fear 
it  did  not  quite  go  off  as  it  should  have  done." 

"  I  assure  you,"  saidWilhelm,  "it  went  off  quite  well.  And 
certainly  the  strange  caperings  of  these  Moors  and  Mooresses, 
these  shepherds  and  shepherdesses,  these  dwarfs  and  dwarf- 
esses,  will  never  altogether  leave  my  recollection  while  I 
live.  When  the  curtain  dropped,  and  the  door  closed,  our 
little  party  skipped  away,  frolicking  as  if  they  had  been 
tipsy,  to  their  beds.  For  mj'self,  however,  I  remember  that 
I  could  not  go  to  sleep  :  still  wanting  to  have  something  told 
me  on  the  subject,  I  continued  putting  questions  to  every 
one,  and  would  hardly  let  the  maid  away  who  had  brought 
me  up  to  bed» 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  28 

"  Next  morning,  alas !  the  magic  apparatus  had  altogether 
vanished ;  the  mysterious  veil  was  carried  off ;  the  door  per- 
mitted us  again  to  go  and  come  through  it  without  obstruc- 
tion ;  the  manifold  adventures  of  the  evening  had  passed 
away,  and  left  no  trace  behind.  My  brothers  and  sisters 
were  running  up  and  down  with  their  playthings ;  I  alone 
kept  gliding  to  and  fro  :  it  seemed  to  me  impossible  that  two 
bare  door-posts  could  be  all  that  now  remained,  where  the 
night  before  so  much  enchantment  had  been  displayed.  Alas  ! 
the  man  that  seeks  a  lost  love  can  hardly  be  unhappier  than 
I  then  thought  myself." 

A  rapturous  look,  which  he  cast  on  Mariana,  convinced 
her  that  he  was  not  afraid  of  such  ever  being  his  case. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"Mr  sole  wish  now,"  continued  Wilhelm,  "was  to  wit- 
ness a  second  exhibition  of  the  play.  For  this  purpose  I  had 
recourse,  by  constant  entreaties,  to  my  mother  ;  and  she  at- 
tempted in  a  favorable  hour  to  persuade  my  father.  Her 
labor,  however,  was  in  vain.  My  father's  principle  was,  that 
none  but  enjoyments  of  rare  occurrence  were  adequately 
prized  ;  that  neither  young  nor  old  could  set  a  proper  value 
on  pleasures  which  they  tasted  every  day. 

"We  might  have  waited  long,  perhaps  till  Christmas 
returned,  had  not  the  contriver  and  secret  director  of  the 
spectacle  himself  felt  a  pleasure  in  repeating  the  display  of 
it,  partly  incited,  I  suppose,  by  the  wish  to  produce  a  brand- 
new  harlequin  expressly  prepared  for  the  afterpiece. 

"  A  young  officer  of  the  artillery,  a  person  of  great  gifts 
in  all  sorts  of  mechanical  contrivance,  had  served  my  father 
in  many  essential  particulars  during  the  building  of  the  house  ; 
for  which,  having  been  handsomely  rewarded,  he  felt  desirous 
of  expressing  his  thankfulness  to  the  family  of  his  patron, 
and  so  made  us  young  ones  a  present  of  this  complete  thea- 
tre, which,  in  hours  of  leisure,  he  had  already  carved  and 
painted,  and  strung  together.  It  was  this  young  man,  who, 
with  the  help  of  a  servant,  had  himself  managed  the  puppets, 
disguising  his  voice  to  pronounce  their  various  speeches.  He 
had  no  great  difficulty  in  persuading  my  father,  who  granted, 


24  METSTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

out  of  complaisance  to  a  friend,  what  he  had  denied  from 
conviction  to  his  children.  In  short,  our  theatre  was  again 
set  up,  some  little  ones  of  the  neighborhood  were  invited, 
and  the  play  was  again  represented. 

"  If  I  had  formerly  experienced  the  delights  of  siirprise  and 
astonishment,  I  enjoyed  on  this  second  occasion  the  pleasure 
of  examining  and  scrutinizing.  How  all  this  happened  was 
my  present  concern.  That  the  puppets  themselves  did  not 
speak,  I  had  already  decided ;  that  of  themselves  they  did 
not  move,  I  also  conjectured  ;  but,  then,  how  came  it  all  to  be 
so  pretty,  and  to  look  just  as  if  they  both  spoke  and  moved 
of  themselves?  and  where  were  the  lights,  and  the  people 
that  managed  the  deception?  These  enigmas  perplexed  me 
the  more,  as  I  wished  to  be  at  the  same  time  among  the 
enchanters  and  the  enchanted,  at  the  same  time  to  have  a 
secret  hand  in  the  play,  and  to  enjoy,  as  a  looker-on,  the 
pleasure  of  illusion. 

"The  play  being  finished,  preparations  were  making  for 
the  farce :  the  spectators  had  risen,  and  were  all  busy  talk- 
ing together.  I  squeezed  myself  closer  to  the  door,  and 
heard,  by  the  rattling  within,  that  the  people  were  packing 
up  some  articles.  I  lifted  the  lowest  screen,  and  poked  in 
my  head  between  the  posts.  As  our  mother  noticed  it,  she 
drew  me  back  :  but  I  had  seen  well  enough  that  here  friends 
and  foes,  Saul  and  Goliath,  and  whatever  else  their  names 
might  be,  were  lying  quietly  down  together  in  a  drawer; 
and  thus  my  half-contented  curiosity  received  a  fresh  excite- 
ment. To  my  great  surprise,  moreover,  I  had  noticed  the 
lieutenant  very  diligently  occupied  in  the  interior  of  the 
shrine.  Henceforth,  Jack-pudding,  however  he  might  clatter 
with  his  heels,  could  not  any  longer  entertain  me.  I  sank 
into  deep  meditation :  my  discovery  made  me  both  more  sat- 
isfied, and  less  so,  than  before.  After  a  little,  it  first  struck 
me  that  I  yet  comprehended  nothing  :  and  here  I  was  right ; 
for  the  connection  of  the  parts  with  each  other  was  entirely 
unknown  to  me,  and  every  thing  depends  on  that." 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  25 


CHAPTER  V. 

"!N  well  adjusted  and  regulated  houses,"  continued  Wil- 
helm,  "  children  have  a  feeling  not  unlike  what  I  conceive 
rats  and  mice  to  have :  they  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  all  crevices 
and  holes,  where  they  may  come  at  any  forbidden  dainty ; 
they  enjoy  it  also  with  a  fearful,  stolen  satisfaction,  which 
forms  no  small  part  of  the  happiness  of  childhood. 

"More  than  any  other  of  the  young  ones,  I  was  in  the 
habit  of  looking  out  attentively,  to  see  if  I  could  notice  any 
cupboard  left  open,  or  key  standing  in  its  lock.  The  more 
reverence  I  bore  in  my  heart  for  those  closed  doors,  on  the 
outside  of  which  I  had  to  pass  by  for  weeks  and  months, 
catching  only  a  furtive  glance  when  our  mother  now  and  then 
opened  the  consecrated  place  to  take  something  from  it,  the 
quicker  was  I  to  make  use  of  any  opportunities  which  the 
forgetfulness  of  our  housekeepers  at  times  afforded  me. 

"•Among  all  the  doors,  that  of  the  storeroom  was,  of 
course,  the  one  I  watched  most  narrowly.  Few  of  the  joyful 
anticipations  in  life  can  equal  the  feeling  which  I  used  to 
have  when  my  mother  happened  to  call  me,  that  I  might  help 
her  to  carry  out  something,  whereupon  I  might  pick  up  a 
few  dried  plums,  either  with  her  kind  permission,  or  by  help 
of  my  own  dexterity.  The  accumulated  treasures  of  this 
chamber  took  hold  of  my  imagination  by  their  magnitude : 
the  very  fragrance  exhaled  by  so  multifarious  a  collection  of 
sweet-smelling  spices  produced  such  a  craving  effect  on  me, 
that  I  never  failed,  when  passing  near,  to  linger  for  a  little, 
and  regale  myself  at  least  on  the  unbolted  atmosphere.  At 
length,  one  Sunday  morning,  my  mother,  being  hurried  by 
the  ringing  of  the  church-bells,  forgot  to  take  this  precious 
key  with  her  on  shutting  the  door,  and  went  away,  leaving 
all  the  house  in  a  deep  Sabbath  stillness.  No  sooner  had  I 
marked  this  oversight  than,  gliding  softly  once  or  twice  to 
and  from  the  place,  I  at  last  approached  very  gingerly, 
opened  the  door,  and  felt  myself,  after  a  single  step,  in  im- 
mediate contact  with  these  manifold  and  long-wished-for 
means  of  happiness.  I  glanced  over  glasses,  chests,  and 
bags,  and  drawers  and  boxes,  with  a  quick  and  doubtful  eye, 
considering  what  I  ought  to  choose  and  take  ;  turned  finally 
to  my  dear  withered  plums,  provided  myself  also  with  a  few 
dried  apples,  and  completed  the  forage  with  an  orange-chip. 
I  was  quietly  retreating  with  my  plunder,  when  some  little 


26  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

chests,  lying  piled  over  one  another,  caught  my  attention,  — 
the  more  so  as  I  noticed  a  wire,  with  hooks  at  the  end  of 
it,  sticking  through  the  joint  of  the  lid  in  one  of  them.  Full 
of  eager  hopes,  I  opened  this  singular  package ;  and  judge 
of  my  emotions,  when  I  found  my  glad  world  of  heroes  all 
sleeping  safe  within  !  I  meant  to  pick  out  the  topmost,  and, 
having  examined  them,  to  pull  up  those  below ;  but  in  this 
attempt  the  wires  got  very  soon  entangled :  and  I  fell  into  a 
fright  and  flutter,  more  particularly  as  the  cook  just  then  be- 
gan making  some  stir  in  the  kitchen,  which  was  close  by  ;  so 
that  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  squeeze  the  whole  together 
the  best  way  I  could,  and  to  shut  the  chest,  having  stolen 
from  it  nothing  but  a  little  written  book,  which  happened  to 
be  lying  above,  and  contained  the  whole  drama  of  Goliath 
and  David.  With  this  booty  I  made  good  my  retreat  into 
the  garret. 

"  Henceforth  all  my  stolen  hours  of  solitude  were  devoted 
to  perusing  the  play,  to  learning  it  by  heart,  and  picturing  in 
thought  how  glorious  it  would  be,  could  I  but  get  the  figures, 
to  make  them  move  along  with  it.  In  idea  I  myself  became 
David  and  Goliath  by  turns.  In  every  corner  of  the  court- 
yard, of  the  stables,  of  the  garden,  under  all  kinds  of  cir- 
cumstances, I  labored  to  stamp  the  whole  piece  upon  my 
mind ;  laid  hold  of  all  the  characters,  and  learned  their 
speeches  by  heart,  most  commonly,  however,  taking  up  the 
parts  of  the  chief  personages,  and  allowing  all  the  rest  to 
move  along  with  them,  but  as  satellites,  across  my  memory. 
Thus  day  and  night  the  heroic  words  of  David,  wherewith  he 
challenged  the  braggart  giant,  Goliath  of  Gath,  kept  their 
place  in  my  thoughts.  I  often  muttered  them  to  myself ; 
while  no  one  gave  heed  to  me,  except  my  father,  who,  fre- 
quently observing  some  such  detached  exclamation,  would  in 
secret  praise  the  excellent  memory  of  his  boy,  that  had  re- 
tained so  much  from  only  two  recitations. 

' '  By  this  means  growing  bolder  and  bolder,  I  one  evening 
repeated  almost  the  entire  piece  before  my  mother,  whilst  I 
was  busied  in  fashioning  some  bits  of  wax  into  players.  She 
observed  it,  questioned  me  hard  ;  and  I  confessed. 

"  By  good  fortune,  this  detection  happened  at  a  time  when 
the  lieutenant  had  himself  been  expressing  a  wish  to  initiate 
me  in  the  mysteries  of  the  art.  My  mother  forthwith  gave 
him  notice  of  these  unexpected  talents ;  and  he  now  con- 
trived to  make  my  parents  offer  him  a  couple  of  chambers  in 
the  top  story,  which  commonly  stood  empty,  that  he  might 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  27 

accommodate  the  spectators  in  the  one,  while  the  other  held 
his  actors,  the  proscenium  again  filling  up  the  opening  of 
the  door :  my  father  had  allowed  his  friend  to  arrange  all 
this  ;  himself,  in  the  mean  time,  seeming  only  to  look  at  the 
transaction,  as  it  were,  through  his  fingers  ;  for  his  maxim 
was,  that  children  should  not  be  allowed  to  see  the  kindness 
which  is  felt  towards  them,  lest  their  pretensions  come  to 
extend  too  far.  He  was  of  opinion,  that,  in  the  enjoyments 
of  the  young,  one  should  assume  a  serious  air ;  often  inter- 
rupting the  course  of  their  festivities,  to  prevent  their  satis- 
faction from  degenerating  into  excess  and  presumption." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  THE  lieutenant  now  set  up  his  theatre,  and  managed  all 
the  rest.  During  the  week  I  readily  observed  that  he  often 
came  into  the  house  at  unusual  hours,  and  I  soon  guessed 
the  cause.  My  eagerness  increased  immensely ;  for  I  well 
understood,  that,  till  Sunday  evening,  I  could  have  no  share 
in  what  was  going  on.  At  last  the  wished-for  day  arrived. 
At  five  in  the  evening  my  conductor  came,  and  took  me  up 
with  him.  Quivering  with  joy,  I  entered,  and  descried,  on 
both  sides  of  the  framework,  the  puppets  all  hanging  in 
order  as  they  were  to  advance  to  view.  I  considered  them 
narrowly,  and  mounted  on  the  steps,  which  raised  them 
above  the  sceno,  and  allowed  me  to  hover  aloft  over  all  that 
little  world.  Not  without  reverence  did  I  look  down  be- 
tween the  pieces  of  board,  and  recollect  what  a  glorious  effect 
the  whole  would  produce,  and  feel  into  what  mighty  secrets 
I  was  now  admitted.  We  made  a  trial,  which  succeeded 
well. 

"Next  day  a  party  of  children  were  invited:  we  per- 
formed rarely ;  except  that  once,  in  the  fire  of  action,  I  let 
poor  Jonathan  fall,  and  was  obliged  to  reach  down  with  my 
hand,  and  pick  him  up, — an  accident  which  sadly  man-ed 
the  illusion,  produced  a  peal  of  laughter,  and  vexed  me 
unspeakably.  My  father,  however,  seemed  to  relish  this 
misfortune  not  a  little.  Prudently  shrouding  up  the  con- 
tentment he  felt  at  the  expertness  of  his  little  boy,  after 
the  play  was  finished,  he  dwelt  on  the  mistakes  we  had 


28  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

committed,  saying  it  would  all  have  been  very  pretty  had 
uot  this  or  that  gone  wrong  with  us. 

"  I  was  vexed  to  the  heart  at  these  things,  and  sad  for  all 
the  evening.  By  next  morning,  however,  I  had  quite  slept 
off  my  sorrow,  and  was  blessed  in  the  persuasion,  that,  but 
for  this  one  fault,  I  had  acted  delightfully.  The  spectators 
also  flattered  me  with  their  unanimous  approval :  they  all 
maintained,  that  though  the  lieutenant,  in  regard  to  the 
coarse  and  the  fine  voices,  had  done  great  things,  yet  his 
declamation  was  in  general  too  stiff  and  affected ;  whereas 
the  new  aspirant  spoke  his  Jonathan  and  David  with  exqui- 
site grace.  My  mother  in  particular  commended  the  gallant 
tone  in  which  I  had  challenged  Goliath,  and  acted  the  mod- 
est victor  before  the  king. 

' '  From  this  time,  to  my  extreme  delight,  the  theatre  con- 
tinued open  ;  and  as  the  spring  advanced,  so  that  fires  could 
be  dispensed  with,  I  passed  all  my  hours  of  recreation  lying 
in  the  garret,  and  making  the  puppets  caper  and  play  to- 
gether. Often  I  invited  up  my  comrades,  or  my  brothers 
and  sisters ;  but,  when  they  would  not  come,  I  staid  by 
myself  not  the  less.  My  imagination  brooded  over  that 
tiny  world,  which  soon  afterwards  acquired  another  form. 

"  Scarcely  had  I  once  or  twice  exhibited  the  first  play,  for 
which  my  scenery  and  actors  had  been  formed  and  deco- 
rated, when  it  ceased  to  give  me  any  pleasure.  On  the 
other  hand,  among  some  of  my  grandfather's  books,  I  had 
happened  to  fall  in  with  '  The  German  Theatre,'  and  a  few 
translations  of  Italian  operas ;  in  which  works  I  soon  got 
very  deeply  immersed,  on  each  occasion  first  reckoning  up 
the  characters,  and  then,  without  further  ceremony,  proceed- 
ing to  exhibit  the  play.  King  Saul,  with  his  black  velvet 
cloak,  was  therefore  now  obliged  to  personate  Darius  or 
Cato,  or  some  other  pagan  hero ;  in  which  cases,  it  may  be 
observed,  the  plays  were  never  wholly  represented,  —  for 
most  part,  only  the  fifth  acts,  where  the  cutting  and  stab- 
bing lay. 

"  It  was  natural  that  the  operas,  with  their  manifold 
adventures  and  vicissitudes,  should  attract  me  more  than 
any  thing  beside.  In  these  compositions  I  found  stormy 
seas,  gods  descending  in  chariots  of  cloud,  and,  what  most 
of  all  delighted  me,  abundance  of  thunder  and  lightning. 
I  did  my  best  with  pasteboard,  paint,  and  paper:  I  could 
make  night  very  prettily ;  my  lightning  was  fearful  to  be- 
hold ;  only  my  thunder  did  not  always  prosper,  which, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  29 

however,  was  of  less  importance.  In  operas,  moreover,  I 
found  frequent  opportunities  of  introducing  my  David  and 
Goliath,  —  persons  whom  the  regular  drama  would  hardly 
admit.  Daily  I  felt  more  attachment  for  the  hampered  spot 
where  I  enjoyed  so  many  pleasures ;  and,  I  must  confess, 
the  fragrance  which  the  puppets  had  acquired  from  the 
storeroom  added  not  a  little  to  my  satisfaction. 

"  The  decorations  of  my  theatre  were  now  in  a  tolerable 
state  of  completeness.  I  had  always  had  the  knack  of 
drawing  with  compasses,  and  clipping  pasteboard,  and  col- 
oring figures ;  and  here  it  served  me  in  good  stead.  But 
the  more  sorry  was  I,  on  the  other  hand,  when,  as  frequently 
happened,  my  stock  of  actors  would  not  suffice  for  repre- 
senting great  affairs. 

"  My  sisters,  dressing  and  undressing  their  dolls,  awoke  in 
me  the  project  of  furnishing  my  heroes  by  and  by  with  gar- 
ments which  might  also  be  put  off  and  on.  Accordingly,  I 
slit  the  scraps  of  cloth  from  off  their  bodies,  tacked  the 
fragments  together  as  well  as  possible,  saved  a  particle  of 
money  to  buy  new  ribbons  and  lace,  begged  many  a  rag  of 
taffeta,  and  so  formed,  by  degrees,  a  full  theatrical  ward- 
robe, in  which  hoop-petticoats  for  the  ladies  were  especially 
remembered. 

' '  My  troop  was  now  fairly  provided  with  dresses  for  the 
most  important  play,  and  you  might  have  expected  that 
henceforth  one  exhibition  would  follow  close  upon  the  heels 
of  another ;  but  it  happened  with  me,  as  it  often  happens 
with  children,  —  they  embrace  wide  plans,  make  mighty  prep- 
arations, then  a  few  ti'ials,  and  the  whole  undertaking  is 
abandoned.  I  was  guilty  of  this  fault.  My  greatest  pleas- 
ure lay  in  the  inventive  part,  and  the  employment  of  my 
fancy.  This  or  that  piece  inspired  me  with  interest  for  a 
few  scenes  of  it,  and  immediately  I  set  about  providing  new 
apparel  suitable  for  the  occasion.  In  such  fluctuating  opera- 
tions, many  parts  of  the  primary  dresses  of  my  heroes  had 
fallen  into  disorder,  or  totally  gone  out  of  sight ;  so  that 
now  the  first  great  play  could  no  longer  be  exhibited.  I 
surrendered  myself  to  my  imagination  ;  I  rehearsed  and  pre- 
pared forever ;  built  a  thousand  castles  in  the  air,  and  failed 
to  see  that  I  was  at  the  same  time  undermining  the  founda- 
tions of  these  little  edifices." 

During  this  recital,  Mariana  had  called  up  and  put  in 
action  all  her  courtesy  for  AVilhelm,  that  she  might  conceal 


30  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

her  sleepiness.  Diverting  as  the  matter  seemed  on  one  side, 
it  was  too  simple  for  her  taste,  and  her  lover's  view  of  it  too 
serious.  She  softly  pressed  her  foot  on  his,  however,  and 
gave  him  all  visible  signs  of  attention  and  approval.  She 
drank  out  of  his  glass  :  Wilhelm  was  convinced  that  no 
word  of  his  history  had  fallen  to  the  ground.  After  a  short 
pause,  he  said,  "It  is  now  your  turn,  Mariana,  to  tell 
me  what  were  your  first  childish  joys.  Till  now  we  have 
always  been  too  busy  with  the  present  to  trouble  ourselves, 
on  either  side,  about  our  previous  way  of  life.  Let  me  hear, 
Mariana,  under  what  circumstances  you  were  reared :  what 
are  the  first  lively  impressions  which  you  still  remember?  " 

These  questions  would  have  very  much  embarrassed  Mari- 
ana, had  not  Barbara  made  haste  to  help  her.  "  Think 
you,"  said  the  cunning  old  woman,  "we  have  been  so  mind- 
ful of  what  happened  to  us  long  ago,  that  we  have  merry 
things  like  these  to  talk  about,  and,  though  we  had,  that  we 
could  give  them  such  an  air  in  talking  of  them  ? ' ' 

"As  if  they  needed  it!"  cried  Wilhelm.  "I  love  this 
soft,  good,  amiable  creature  so  much,  that  I  regret  every 
instant  of  my  life  which  has  not  been  spent  beside  her. 
Allow  me,  at  least  in  fancy,  to  have  a  share  in  thy  by-gone 
life ;  tell  me  every  thing  ;  I  will  tell  every  thing  to  thee  !  If 
possible,  we  will  deceive  ourselves,  and  win  back  those  days 
that  have  been  lost  to  love." 

"If  you  require  it  so  eagerly,"  replied  the  old  dame, 
"  we  can  easily  content  you.  Only,  in  the  first  place,  let  us 
hear  how  your  taste  for  the  theatre  gradually  reached  a 
head ;  how  you  practised,  how  j'ou  improved  so  happil}r, 
that  now  you  can  pass  for  a  superior  actor.  No  doubt  }rou 
must  have  met  with  droll  adventures  in  your  progress.  It 
is  not  worth  while  to  go  to  bed  now :  I  have  still  one  flask 
in  reserve ;  and  who  knows  whether  we  shall  soon  all  sit 
together  so  quiet  and  cheery  again  ? ' ' 

Mariana  cast  upon  her  a  mournful  look,  not  noticed  by 
Wilhelm,  who  proceeded  with  his  narrative. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  31 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"THE  recreations  of  youth,  as  my  companions  began  to 
increase  in  number,  interfered  with  this  solitary,  still  enjoy- 
ment. I  was  by  turns  a  hunter,  a  soldier,  a  knight,  as  our 
games  required ;  and  constantly  I  had  this  small  advantage 
above  the  rest,  that  I  was  qualified  to  furnish  them  suitably 
with  the  necessary  equipments.  The  swords,  for  exam- 
ple, were  generally  of  my  manufacture  ;  I  gilded  and  deco- 
rated the  scabbards ;  and  a  secret  instinct  allowed  me  not  to 
stop  till  our  militia  was  accoutred  accoixling  to  the  antique 
model.  Helmets,  with  plumes  of  paper,  were  got  ready ; 
shields,  even  coats  of  mail,  were  provided ;  undertakings  in 
which  such  of  the  servants  as  had  aught  of  the  tailor  in 
them,  and  the  seamstresses  of  the  house,  broke  many  a 
needle. 

"  A  part  of  my  comrades  I  had  now  got  well  equipped ; 
by  degrees,  the  rest  were  likewise  furbished  up,  though  on 
a  thriftier  plan ;  and  so  a  very  seemly  corps  at  length  was 
mustered.  We  marched  about  the  court-yards  and  gardens, 
smote  fearfully  upon  each  other's  shields  and  heads :  many 
flaws  of  discord  rose  among  us,  but  none  that  lasted. 

' '  This  diversion  greatly  entertained  my  fellows ;  but 
scarcely  had  it  been  twice  or  thrice  repeated,  when  it 
ceased  to  content  me.  The  aspect  of  so  many  harnessed 
figures  naturally  stimulated  in  my  mind  those  ideas  of 
chivalry,  which  for  some  time,  since  I  had  commenced  the 
reading  of  old  romances,  were  filling  my  imagination. 

"  Koppen's  translation  of  '  Jerusalem  Delivered '  at 
length  fell  into  my  hands,  and  gave  these  wandering 
thoughts  a  settled  direction.  The  whole  poem,  it  is  true, 
I  could  not  read ;  but  there  were  passages  which  I  learned 
by  heart,  and  the  images  expressed  in  these  hovered  round 
me.  Particularly  was  I  captivated  with  Clorinda,  and  all 
her  deeds  and  bearing.  The  masculine  womanhood,  the 
peaceful  completeness  of  her  being,  had  a  greater  influence 
upon  my  mind,  just  beginning  to  unfold  itself,  than  the 
factitious  charms  of  Armida ;  though  the  garden  of  that 
enchantress  was  by  no  means  an  object  of  my  contempt. 

"But  a  hundred  and  a  hundred  times,  while  walking  in 
the  evenings  on  the  balcony  which  stretches  along  the  front 
of  the  house,  and  looking  over  the  neighborhood,  as  the 
quivering  splendor  streamed  up  at  the  horizon  from  the 


32  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

departed  sun,  and  the  stars  came  forth,  and  night  pressed 
forward  from  every  cleft  and  hollow,  and  the  small,  shrill 
tone  of  the  cricket  tinkled  through  the  solemn  stillness,  — 
a  hundred  and  a  hundred  times  have  I  repeated  to  myself 
the  history  of  the  mournful  duel  between  Tancred  and 
Clorinda. 

' '  However  strongly  I  inclined  by  nature  to  the  party  of 
the  Christians,  I  could  not  help  declaring  for  the  Paynim 
heroine  with  all  my  heart  when  she  engaged  to  set  on  fire 
the  great  tower  of  the  besiegers.  And  when  Tancred  in  the 
darkness  met  the  supposed  knight,  and  the  strife  began 
between  them  under  that  veil  of  gloom,  and  the  two  battled 
fiercely,  I  could  never  pronounce  the  words,  — 

" '  But  now  the  sure  and  fated  hour  is  nigh: 
Clorinda' s  course  is  ended, — she  must  die; '  — 

without  tears  rushing  into  my  eyes,  which  flowed  plentifully 
when  the  hapless  lover,  plunging  his  sword  into  her  breast, 
opened  the  departing  warrior's  helmet,  recognized  the  lady 
of  his  heart,  and,  shuddering,  brought  water  to  baptize  her. 

' '  How  my  heart  ran  over  when  Tancred  struck  with  his 
sword  that  tree  in  the  enchanted  wood ;  when  blood  flowed 
from  the  gash,  and  a  voice  sounded  in  his  ears,  that  now 
again  he  was  wounding  Clorinda ;  that  Destiny  had  marked 
him  out  ever  unwittingly  to  injure  what  he  loved  beyond  all 
else. 

"  The  recital  took  such  hold  of  my  imagination,  that  what 
I  had  read  of  the  poem  began  dimly,  in  my  mind,  to  con- 
glomerate into  a  whole ;  wherewith  I  was  so  taken  that  I 
could  not  but  propose  to  have  it  some  way  represented. 
I  meant  to  have  Tancred  and  Rinaldo  acted ;  and,  for  this 
purpose,  two  coats  of  mail,  which  I  had  before  manufac- 
tured, seemed  expressly  suitable.  The  one,  formed  of  dark- 
gray  paper  with  scales,  was  to  serve  for  the  solemn  Tancred ; 
the  other,  of  silver  and  gilt  paper,  for  the  magnificent 
Rinaldo.  In  the  vivacity  of  my  anticipations,  I  told  the 
whole  project  to  my  comrades,  who  felt  quite  charmed  with 
it,  except  that  they  could  not  well  comprehend  how  so  glo- 
rious a  thing  could  be  exhibited,  and,  above  all,  exhibited 
by  them. 

"  Such  scruples  I  easily  set  aside.  "Without  hesitation, 
I  took  upon  me,  in  idea,  the  management  of  two  rooms  in 
the  house  of  a  neighboring  playmate ;  not  calculating  that 
his  venerable  aunt  would  never  give  them  up,  or  considering 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  33 

how  a  theatre  could  be  made  of  them,  whereof  I  had  no 
settled  notion,  except  that  it  was  to  be  fixed  on  beams,  to 
have  side-scenes  made  of  parted  folding-screens,  and  on  the 
floor  a  large  piece  of  cloth.  From  what  quarter  these  mate- 
rials and  furnishings  were  to  come,  I  had  not  determined. 

"  So  far  as  concerned  the  forest,  we  fell  upon  a  good 
expedient.  We  betook  ourselves  to  an  old  servant  of  one 
of  our  families,  who  had  now  become  a  woodman,  with 
many  entreaties  that  he  would  get  us  a  few  young  firs  and 
birches ;  which  actually  arrived  more  speedily  than  we  had 
reason  to  expect.  But,  in  the  next  place,  great  was  our 
embarrassment  as  to  how  the  piece  should  be  got  up  before 
the  trees  were  withered.  Now  was  the  time  for  prudent 
counsel.  We  had  no  house,  no  scenery,  no  curtain :  the 
folding-screens  were  all  we  had. 

44  In  this  forlorn  condition  we  again  applied  to  the  lieu- 
tenant, giving  him  a  copious  description  of  all  the  glorious 
things  we  meant  to  do.  Little  as  he  understood  us,  he  was 
very  helpful :  he  piled  all  the  tables  he  could  get  in  the 
house  or  neighborhood,  one  above  the  other,  in  a  little  room  : 
to  these  he  fixed  our  folding-screens,  and  made  a  back-view 
with  green  curtains,  sticking  up  our  trees  along  with  it. 

"At  length  the  appointed  evening  came:  the  caudles 
were  lit,  the  maids  and  children  were  sitting  in  their  places, 
the  piece  was  to  go  forward,  the  whole  corps  of  heroes  was 
equipped  and  dressed,  —  when  each  for  the  first  time  discov- 
ered that  he  knew  not  what  he  was  to  say.  In  the  heat 
of  invention,  being  quite  immersed  in  present  difficulties,  I 
had  forgotten  the  necessity  of  each  understanding  what  and 
where  he  was  to  speak ;  nor,  in  the  midst  of  our  bustling 
preparations,  had  it  once  occurred  to  the  rest ;  each  believ- 
ing he  could  easily  enact  a  hero,  easily  so  speak  and  bear 
himself,  as  became  the  personage  into  whose  world  I  had 
transplanted  him.  They  all  stood  wonder-struck,  asking, 
What  was  to  come  first?  I  alone,  having  previously  got 
ready  Tancred's  part,  entered  solus  on  the  scene,  and  began 
reciting  some  verses  of  the  epic.  But  as  the  passage  soon 
changed  into  narrative,  and  I,  while  speaking,  was  at  once 
transformed  into  a  third  party,  and  the  bold  Godfredo,  when 
his  turn  came,  would  not  venture  forth,  I  was  at  last  obliged 
to  take  leave  of  my  spectators  under  peals  of  laughter,  —  a 
disaster  which  cut  me  to  the  heart.  Thus  had  our  undertak- 
ing proved  abortive  ;  but  the  company  still  kept  their  places, 
still  wishing  to  see  something.  All  of  us  wei'e  dressed :  I 


34  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

screwed  my  courage  up,  and  determined,  foul  or  fair,  to 
give  them  David  and  Goliath.  Some  of  my  companions 
had  before  this  helped  me  to  exhibit  the  puppet-play ;  all 
of  them  had  often  seen  it ;  we  shared  the  characters  among 
us ;  each  promised  to  do  his  best ;  and  one  small,  grinning 
urchin  painted  a  black  beard  upon  his  chin,  and  undertook, 
if  any  lacuna  should  occur,  to  fill  it  with  drollery  as  har- 
lequin,—  an  arrangement  to  which,  as  contradicting  the 
solemnity  of  the  piece,  I  did  not  consent  without  extreme 
reluctance  ;  and  I  vowed  within  myself,  that,  if  once  deliv- 
ered out  of  this  perplexity,  I  would  think  long  and  well 
before  risking  the  exhibition  of  another  play." 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

MARIANA,  overpowered  with  sleep,  leaned  upon  her  lover, 
who  clasped  her  close  to  him,  and  proceeded  in  his  narrative  ; 
while  the  old  damsel  prudently  sipped  up  the  remainder  of 
the  wine. 

"The  embarrassment,"  he  said,  "into  which,  along  with 
my  companions,  I  had  fallen,  by  attempting  to  act  a  play 
that  did  not  an3'where  exist,  was  soon  forgotten.  My  pas- 
sion for  representing  each  romance  I  read,  each  story  that 
was  told  me,  would  not  yield  before  the  most  unmanageable 
materials.  I  felt  convinced  that  whatever  gave  delight  in 
narrative  must  produce  a  far  deeper  impression  when  exhib- 
ited :  I  wanted  to  have  every  thing  before  my  eyes,  every 
thing  brought  forth  upon  the  stage.  At  school,  when  the 
elements  of  general  history  were  related  to  us,  I  carefully 
marked  the  passages  where  any  person  had  been  slain  or 
poisoned  in  a  singular  way ;  and  my  imagination,  glancing 
rapidly  along  the  exposition  and  intrigue,  hastened  to  the 
interesting  fifth  act.  Indeed,  I  actually  began  to  write 
some  plays  from  the  end  backwards,  without,  however,  in 
any  of  them  reaching  the  beginning. 

•  "At  the  same  time,  partly  by  inclination,  partly  by  the 
counsel  of  my  good  friends,  who  had  caught  the  fancy  of 
acting  plays,  I  read  a  whole  wilderness  of  theatrical  produc- 
tions, as  chance  put  them  into  my  hands.  I  was  still  in 
those  happy  years  when  all  things  please  us,  when  number 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  35 

and  variety  yield  us  abundant  satisfaction.  Unfortunately, 
too,  my  taste  was  corrupted  by  another  circumstance.  Any 
piece  delighted  me  especially,  in  which  I  could  hope  to  give 
delight ;  there  were  few  which  I  did  not  peruse  in  this  agree- 
able delusion  :  and  my  lively  conceptive  power  enabling  me 
to  transfer  myself  into  all  the  characters,  seduced  me  to 
believe  that  I  might  likewise  represent  them  all.  Hence,  in 
the  distribution  of  the  parts,  I  commonly  selected  such  as 
did  not  fit  me,  and  always  more  than  one  part,  if  I  could 
by  any  means  accomplish  more. 

"  In  their  games,  children  can  make  all  things  out  of  any  : 
a  staff  becomes  a  musket,  a  splinter  of  wood  a  sword,  any 
bunch  of  cloth  a  puppet,  any  crevice  a  chamber.  Upon 
this  principle  was  our  private  theatre  got  up.  Totally  unac- 
quainted with  the  measure  of  our  strength,  we  undertook  all : 
we  stuck  at  no  quid  pro  quo,  and  felt  convinced  that  every  one 
would  take  us  for  what  we  gave  ourselves  out  to  be.  Now, 
however,  our  affairs  went  on  so  soberly  and  smoothly,  that  I 
have  not  even  a  curious  insipidity  to  tell  you  of.  We  first 
acted  all  the  few  plays  in  which  only  males  are  requisite, 
next  we  travestied  some  of  ourselves,  and  at  last  took  our 
sisters  into  the  concern  along  with  us.  In  one  or  two  houses, 
our  amusement  was  looked  upon  as  profitable  ;  and  company 
was  invited  to  see  it.  Nor  did  our  lieutenant  of  artillery  now 
turn  his  back  upon  us.  He  showed  us  how  we  ought  to  make 
our  exits  and  our  entrances ;  how  we  should  declaim,  and 
with  what  attitudes  and  gestures.  Yet  generally  he  earned 
small  thanks  for  his  toil,  we  conceiving  ourselves  to  be  much 
deeper  in  the  secrets  of  theatrical  art  than  he  himself  was. 

"•  We  very  soon  began  to  grow  tired  of  tragedy ;  for  all  of 
us  believed,  as  we  had  often  heard,  that  it  was  easier  to  write 
or  represent  a  tragedy  than  to  attain  proficiency  in  comedy. 
In  our  first  attempts,  accordingly,  we  had  felt  as  if  exactly 
in  our  element :  dignity  of  rank,  elevation  of  character,  we 
studied  to  approach  by  stiffness  and  affectation,  and  ima- 
gined that  we  succeeded  rarely ;  but  our  happiness  was  not 
complete,  except  we  might  rave  outright,  might  stamp  with 
our  feet,  and,  full  of  fury  and  despair,  cast  ourselves  upon 
the  ground. 

"  Boys  and  girls  had  not  long  carried  on  these  amusements 
in  concert,  till  Nature  began  to  take  Her  course  ;  and  our 
society  branched  itself  off  into  sundry  little  love-associations, 
as  generally  more  than  one  sort  of  comedy  is  acted  in  the 
playhouse.  Behind  the  scenes,  each  happy  pair  pressed 


36  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hands  in  the  most  tender  style  ;  they  floated  in  blessedness, 
appearing  to  one  another  quite  ideal  persons,  when  so  trans- 
formed and  decorated  ;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  unlucky 
rivals  consumed  themselves  with  envy,  and  out  of  malice  and 
spite  worked  every  species  of  mischief. 

"  Our  amusements,  though  undertaken  without  judgment, 
and  earned  on  without  instruction,  were  not  without  their 
use  to  us.  We  trained  our  memories  and  persons,  and  ac- 
quired more  dexterity  in  speech  and  gesture  than  is  usually 
met  with  at  so  early  an  age.  But,  for  me  in  particular,  this 
time  was  in  truth  an  epoch  :  my  mind  turned  all  its  faculties 
exclusively  to  the  theatre  ;  and  my  highest  happiness  was  in 
reading,  in  writing,  or  in  acting,  plays. 

"  Meanwhile  the  labors  of  my  regular  teachers  continued : 
I  had  been  set  apart  for  the  mercantile  life,  and  placed  under 
the  guidance  of  our  neighbor  in  the  counting-house  ;  yet  my 
spirit  at  this  very  time  recoiled  more  forcibly  than  ever  from 
all  that  was  to  bind  me  to  a  low  profession.  It  was  to  the 
stage  that  I  aimed  at  consecrating  all  my  powers,  —  on  the 
stage  that  I  meant  to  seek  all  my  happiness  and  satisfaction. 

"I  recollect  a  poem,  which  must  be  among  my  papers, 
where  the  Muse  of  tragic  art  and  another  female  form,  by 
which  I  personified  Commerce,  were  made  to  strive  very 
bravely  for  my  most  important  self.  The  idea  is  common, 
nor  do  I  recollect  that  the  verses  were  of  any  worth  ;  but  you 
shall  see  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  fear,  the  abhorrence,  the  love 
and  passion,  which  are  prominent  in  it.  How  repulsively  did 
I  paint  the  old  housewife,  with  the  distaff  in  her  girdle,  the 
bunch  of  keys  by  her  side,  the  spectacles  on  her  nose,  ever 
toiling,  ever  restless,  quarrelsome,  and  penurious,  pitiful  and 
dissatisfied !  How  feelingly  did  I  describe  the  condition  of 
that  poor  man  who  has  to  cringe  beneath  her  rod,  and  earn 
his  slavish  day's  wages  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  ! 

"  And  how  differently  advanced  the  other !  What  an  appa- 
rition for  the  overclouded  mind !  Formed  as  a  queen,  in  her 
thoughts  and  looks  she  announced  herself  the  child  of  free- 
dom. The  feeling  of  her  own  worth  gave  her  dignity  with- 
out pride :  her  apparel  became  her,  it  veiled  her  form  without 
constraining  it ;  and  the  rich  folds  repeated,  like  a  thousand- 
voiced  echo,  the  graceful  movements  of  the  goddess.  What 
a  contrast !  How  easy  for  me  to  decide !  Nor  had  I  for- 
gotten the  more  peculiar  characteristics  of  my  Muse.  Crowns 
and  daggers,  chains  and  masks,  as  my  predecessors  had  de- 
livered them,  were  here  produced  once  more.  The  contention 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  37 

was  keen :  the  speeches  of  both  were  palpably  enough  con- 
trasted, for  at  fourteen  years  of  age  one  usually  paints  the 
black  lines  and  the  white  pretty  near  each  other.  The  old 
lady  spoke  as  beseemed  a  person  that  would  pick  up  a  pin 
from  her  path ;  the  other,  like  one  that  could  give  away 
kingdoms.  The  warning  .threats  of  the  housewife  were 
disregarded ;  I  turned  my  back  upon  her  promised  riches : 
disinherited  and  naked,  I  gave  myself  up  to  the  Muse ;  she 
threw  her  golden  veil  over  me,  and  called  me  hers. 

"  Could  I  have  thought,  my  dearest,"  he  exclaimed,  press- 
ing Mariana  close  to  him,  "  that  another,  a  more  lovely  god- 
dess would  come  to  encourage  me  in  my  purpose,  to  travel 
with  me  on  my  journey,  the  poem  might  have  had  a  finer  turn, 
a  far  more  interesting  end.  Yet  it  is  no  poetry,  it  is  truth 
and  life  that  I  feel  in  thy  arms  :  let  us  prize  the  sweet  happi- 
ness, and  consciously  enjoy  it." 

The  pressure  of  his  arms,  the  emotion  of  his  elevated  voice, 
awoke  Mariana,  who  hastened  by  caresses  to  conceal  her 
embarrassment ;  for  no  word  of  the  last  part  of  his  story  had 
reached  her.  It  is  to  be  wished,  that  in  future,  our  hero, 
when  recounting  his  favorite  histories,  may  find  more  atten- 
tive hearers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THUS  Wilhelm  passed  his  nights  in  the  enjoyment  of  con- 
fiding love,  his  days  in  the  expectation  of  new  happy  hours. 
When  desire  and  hope  had  first  attracted  him  to  Mariana,  he 
already  felt  as  if  inspired  with  new  life ;  felt  as  if  he  were 
beginning  to  be  another  man  :  he  was  now  united  to  her ;  the 
contentment  of  his  wishes  had  become  a  delicious  habitude. 
His  heart  strove  to  ennoble  the  object  of  his  passion ;  his 
spirit,  to  exalt  with  it  the  young  creature  whom  he  loved.  In 
the  shortest  absence,  thoughts  of  her  arose  within  him.  If 
she  had  once  been  necessary  to  him,  she  was  now  grown  indis- 
pensable, now  that  he  was  bound  to  her  by  all  the  ties  of 
nature.  His  pure  soul  felt  that  she  was  the  half,  more  than 
the  half,  of  himself.  He  was  grateful  and  devoted  without 
limit. 

Mariana,  too,  succeeded  in  deceiving  herself  for  a  season  : 
she  shared  with  him  the  feeling  of  his  liveliest  blessedness. 


38  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Alas !  if  but  the  cold  hand  of  self-reproach  had  not  often 
come  across  her  heart !  She  was  not  secure  from  it,  even  in 
Wilhelm's  bosom,  even  under  the  wings  of  his  love.  And 
when  she  was  again  left  alone,  again  left  to  sink  from  the 
clouds,  to  which  passion  had  exalted  her,  into  the  conscious- 
ness of  her  real  condition,  then  she  was  indeed  to  be  pitied. 
So  long  as  she  had  lived  among  degrading  perplexities,  dis- 
guising from  herself  her  real  situation,  or  rather  never  think- 
ing of  it,  frivolity  had  helped  her  through  ;  the  incidents  she 
was  exposed  to  had  come  upon  her  each  by  itself ;  satisfac- 
tion and  vexation  had  cancelled  one  another ;  humiliation  had 
been  compensated  by  vanity  ;  want  by  frequent,  though  mo- 
mentary, superfluity ;  she  could  plead  necessity  and  custom 
as  a  law  or  an  excuse  ;  and  hitherto  all  painful  emotions  from 
hour  to  hour,  and  from  day  to  day,  had  by  these  means  been 
shaken  off.  But  now,  for  some  instants,  the  poor  girl  had 
felt  herself  transported  to  a  better  world  ;  aloft,  as  it  were, 
in  the  midst  of  light  and  joy,  she  had  looked  down  upon  the 
abject  desert  of  her  life,  had  felt  what  a  miserable  creature  is 
the  woman,  who,  inspiring  desire,  does  not  also  inspire  rever- 
ence and  love  :  she  regretted  and  repented,  but  found  herself 
outwardly  or  inwardly  no  better  for  regret.  She  had  nothing 
that  she  could  accomplish  or  resolve  upon.  When  she  looked 
into  and  searched  herself,  all  was  waste  and  void  within  her 
soul :  her  heart  had  no  place  of  strength  or  refuge.  But  the 
more  sorrowful  her  state  was,  the  more  vehemently  did  her 
feelings  cling  to  the  man  she  loved :  her  passion  for  him  even 
waxed  stronger  daily,  as  the  danger  of  losing  him  came  daily 
nearer. 

Wilhelm,  on  the  other  hand,  soared  serenely  happy  in 
higher  regions  :  to  him  also  a  new  world  had  been  disclosed, 
but  a  world  rich  in  the  most  glorious  prospects.  Scarcely 
had  the  first  excess  of  joy  subsided,  when  all  that  had  long 
been  gliding  dimly  through  his  soul  stood  up  in  bright  dis- 
tinctness before  it.  She  is  mine  !  She  has  given  herself  up 
to  me  !  She,  the  loved,  the  wished  for,  the  adored,  has  given 
herself  up  to  me  in  trust  and  faith :  she  shall  not  find  me 
ungrateful  for  the  gift.  Standing  or  walking,  he  talked  to 
himself  ;  his  heart  constantly  overflowed  ;  with  a  copiousness 
of  splendid  words,  he  uttered  to  himself  the  loftiest  emotions. 
He  imagined  that  he  understood  the  visible  beckoning  of  Fate, 
reaching  out  its  hand  by  Mariana  to  save  him  from  the  stag- 
nant, weary,  drudging  life,  out  of  which  he  had  so  often 
wished  for  deliverance.  To  leave  his  father's  house  and 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  39 

people,  now  appeared  a  light  matter.  He  was  young,  and 
had  not  tried  the  world :  his  eagerness  to  range  over  its  ex- 
panses, seeking  fortune  and  contentment,  was  stimulated  by 
his  love.  His  vocation  for  the  theatre  was  now  clear  to  him  : 
the  high  goal,  which  he  saw  raised  before  him,  seemed  nearer 
whilst  he  was  advancing  to  it  with  Mariana's  hand  in  his ; 
and,  in  his  comfortable  prudence,  he  beheld  in  himself  the 
embryo  of  a  great  actor,  —  the  future  founder  of  that  national 
theatre,  for  which  he  heard  so  much  and  various  sighing  on 
every  side.  All  that  till  now  had  slumbered  in  the  inner- 
most corners  of  his  soul,  at  length  awoke.  He  painted  for 
himself  a  picture  of  his  manifold  ideas,  in  the  colors  of  love, 
upon  a  canvas  of  cloud :  the  figures  of  it,  indeed,  ran  sadly 
into  one  another ;  yet  the  whole  had  an  air  but  the  more  bril- 
liant on  that  account. 


CHAPTER  X. 

HE  was  now  in  his  chamber  at  home,  ransacking  his 
papers,  making  ready  for  departure.  Whatever  savored  of 
his  previous  employment  he  threw  aside,  meaning  at  his 
entrance  upon  life  to  be  free,  even  from  recollections  that 
could  pain  him.  Works  of  taste  alone,  poets  and  critics, 
were,  as  acknowledged  friends,  placed  among  the  chosen 
few.  Heretofore  he  had  given  little  heed  to  the  critical 
authors  :  his  desire  for  instruction  now  revived,  when,  again 
looking  through  his  books,  he  found  the  theoretical  part  of 
them  lying  generall}-  still  uncut.  In  the  full  persuasion  that 
such  works  were  absolutely  necessary,  he  had  bought  a  num- 
ber of  them  ;  but,  with  the  best  disposition  in  the  world,  he 
had  not  reached  midway  in  any. 

The  more  steadfastly,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  dwelt 
upon  examples,  and,  in  every  kind  that  was  known  to  him, 
had  made  attempts  himself. 

Werner  entered  the  room ;  and,  seeing  his  friend  busied 
with  the  well-known  sheets,  he  exclaimed,  "Again  among 
your  papers  ?  And  without  intending,  I  dare  swear,  to  finish 
any  one  of  them !  You  look  them  through  and  through 
once  or  twice,  then  throw  them  by,  and  begin  something 
new." 


40  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  To  finish  is  not  the  scholar's  care :  it  is  enough  if  he 
improves  himself  by  practice." 

"  But  also  completes  according  to  his  best  ability." 

"And  still  the  question  might  be  asked,  'Is  there  not 
good  hope  of  a  youth,  who,  on  commencing  some  unsuitable 
affair,  soon  discovers  its  unsuitableness,  and  discontinues  his 
exertions,  not  choosing  to  spend  toil  and  time  on  what  never 
can  be  of  any  value  ?  ' ' 

"  I  know  well  enough  it  was  never  your  concern  to  bring 
aught  to  a  conclusion  :  you  have  always  sickened  on  it  before 
it  came  half  way.  When  you  were  the  director  of  our  pup- 
pet-show, for  instance,  how  many  times  were  fresh  clothes 
got  ready  for  the  dwarfish  troop,  fresh  decorations  furbished 
up?  Now  this  tragedy  was  to  be  acted,  now  that;  and  at 
the  very  best  you  gave  us  some  fifth  act,  where  all  was  going 
topsy-turvy,  and  people  cutting  one  another's  throats." 

u  If  you  talk  of  those  times,  vzhose  blame  really  was  it 
that  we  ripped  off  from  our  puppets  the  clothes  that  fitted 
them,  and  were  fast  stitched  to  their  bodies,  and  laid  out 
money  for  a  large  and  useless  wardrobe?  Was  it  not  yours,' 
my  good  friend,  who  had  always  some  fragment  of  ribbon  to 
traffic  with ;  and  skill,  at  the  same  time,  to  stimulate  my 
taste,  and  turn  it  to  your  profit?  " 

Werner  laughed,  and  continued,  "  I  still  recollect,  with 
pleasure,  how  I  used  to  extract  gain  from  your  theatrical 
campaigns,  as  army  contractors  do  from  war.  When  you 
mustered  for  the  '  Deliverance  of  Jerusalem,'  I,  for  my  part, 
made  a  pretty  thing  of  profit,  like  the  Venetians  in  the  cor- 
responding case.  I  know  of  nothing  in  the  world  more 
rational  than  to  turn  the  folly  of  others  to  our  own  advan- 
tage." 

' fc  Perhaps  it  were  a  nobler  satisfaction  to  cure  men  of  their 
follies." 

"  From  the  little  I  know  of  men,  this  might  seem  a  vain 
endeavor.  But  something  towards  it  is  always  done,  when 
any  individual  man  grows  wise  and  rich  ;  and  generally  this 
happens  at  the  cost  of  others." 

"  Well,  here  is  '  The  Youth  at  the  Parting  of  the  Ways  : ' 
it  has  just  come  into  my  hand,"  said  Wilhelm,  drawing  out 
a  bunch  of  papers  from  the  rest ;  "  this  at  least  is  finished, 
whatever  else  it  may  be." 

"  Away  with  it !  to  the  fire  with  it !  "  cried  Werner.  "  The 
'nvention  does  not  deserve  the  smallest  praise  :  that  affair 
jas  plagued  me  enough  already,  and  drawn  upon  yourself 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  41 

your  father's  wrath.  The  verses  may  be  altogether  beauti- 
ful, but  the  meaning  of  them  is  fundamentally  false.  I 
still  recollect  your  Commerce  personified :  a  shrivelled, 
wretched-looking  sibyl  she  was.  I  suppose  you  picked  up 
the  image  of  her  from  some  miserable  huckster's  shop.  At 
that  time  you  had  no  true  idea  at  all  of  trade ;  whilst  I 
could  not  think  of  any  man  whose  spirit  was,  or  needed  to 
be,  more  enlarged  than  the  spirit  of  a  genuine  merchant. 
What  a  thing  is  it  to  see  the  order  which  prevails  throughout 
his  business !  By  means  of  this  he  can  at  any  time  survey 
the  general  whole,  without  needing  to  perplex  himself  in  the 
details.  What  advantages  does  he  derive  from  the  system 
of  book-keeping  by  double  entry!  It  is  among  the  finest 
inventions  of  the  human  mind :  every  prudent  master  of  a 
house  should  introduce  it  into  his  economy." 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Wilhelm,  smiling;  "you  begin  by 
the  form,  as  if  it  were  the  matter :  you  traders  commonly, 
in  your  additions  and  balancings,  forget  what  is  the  proper 
net  result  of  life." 

"My  good  friend,  you  do  not  see  how  form  and  matter 
are  in  this  case  one,  how  neither  can  exist  without  the  other. 
Order  and  arrangement  increase  the  desire  to  save  and  get. 
A  man  embarrassed  in  his  circumstances,  and  conducting 
them  imprudently,  likes  best  to  continue  in  the  dark :  he 
will  not  gladly  reckon  up  the  debtor  entries  he  is  charged 
with.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  to  a  prudent 
manager  more  pleasant  than  daily  to  set  before  himself  the 
sums  of  his  growing  fortune.  Even  a  mischance,  if  it  sur- 
prise and  vex,  will  not  affright,  him ;  for  he  knows  at  once 
what  gains  he  has  acquired  to  cast  into  the  other  scale.  I 
am  convinced,  my  friend,  that,  if  you  once  had  a  proper 
taste  for  our  employments,  you  would  grant  that  many  fac- 
ulties of  the  mind  are  called  into  full  and  vigorous  play  by 
them." 

"  Possibly  this  journey  I  am  thinking  of  may  bring  me  to 
other  thoughts." 

"Oh,  certainly!  Believe  me,  you  want  but  to  look  upon 
some  great  scene  of  activity  to  make  you  ours  forever ;  and, 
when  you  come  back,  you  will  joyfully  enroll  yourself  among 
that  class  of  men  whose  art  it  is  to  draw  towards  themselves 
a  portion  of  the  money,  and  materials  of  enjoyment,  which 
circulate  in  their  appointed  courses  through  the  world.  Cast 
a  look  on  the  natural  and  artificial  productions  of  all  the 
regions  of  the  earth ;  consider  how  they  have  become,  one 


42  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

here,  another  there,  articles  of  necessity  for  men.  How 
pleasant  and  how  intellectual  a  task  is  it  to  calculate,  at  any 
moment,  what  is  most  required,  and  yet  is  wanting,  or  hard 
to  find ;  to  procure  for  each  easily  and  soon  what  he  de- 
mands ;  to  lay  in  your  stock  prudently  beforehand,  and  then 
to  enjoy  the  profit  of  every  pulse  in  that  mighty  circulation. 
This,  it  appears  to  me,  is  what  no  man  that  has  a  head  can 
attend  to  without  pleasure." 

Wilhelm  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and  Werner  continued. 

u  Do  but  visit  one  or  two  great  trading-towns,  one  or  two 
seaports,  and  see  if  you  can  withstand  the  impression. 
When  you  observe  how  many  men  are  busied,  whence  so 
many  things  have  come,  and  whither  they  are  going,  you 
will  feel  as  if  you,  too,  could  gladly  mingle  in  the  business. 
You  will  then  see  the  smallest  piece  of  ware  in  its  connec- 
tion with  the  whole  mercantile  concern ;  and  for  that  very 
reason  you  will  reckon  nothing  paltry,  because  every  thing 
augments  the  circulation  by  which  you  yourself  are  sup- 
ported." 

Werner  had  formed  his  solid  understanding  in  constant 
Intercourse  with  Wilhelm :  he  was  thus  accustomed  to  think 
also  of  his  profession,  of  his  employments,  with  elevation  of 
soul ;  and  he  firmly  believed  that  he  did  so  with  more  justice 
than  his  otherwise  more  gifted  and  valued  friend,  who,  as  it 
seemed  to  him,  had  placed  his  dearest  hopes,  and  directed 
all  the  force  of  his  mind,  upon  the  most  imaginary  objects 
in  the  world.  Many  a  time  he  thought  his  false  enthusiasm 
would  infallibly  be  got  the  better  of,  and  so  excellent  a  soul 
be  brought  back  to  the  right  path.  So  hoping  in  the  present 
instance,  he  continued,  "  The  great  ones  of  the  world  have 
taken  this  earth  of  ours  to  themselves  :  they  live  in  the  midst 
of  splendor  and  superfluity.  The  smallest  nook  of  the  land 
is  already  a  possession  which  none  may  touch  or  meddle 
with :  offices  and  civil  callings  bring  in  little  profit.  Where, 
then,  will  you  find  more  honest  acquisitions,  juster  conquests, 
than  those  of  trade  ?  If  the  princes  of  this  world  hold  the 
rivers,  the  highways,  the  havens,  in  their  power,  and  take  a 
heavy  tribute  from  every  thing  that  passes  through  them, 
may  not  we  embrace  with  joy  the  opportunity  of  levying  tax 
and  toll,  by  our  activity,  on  those  commodities  which  the 
real  or  imaginary  wants  of  men  have  rendered  indispensa- 
ble? I  can  promise  you,  if  you  would  rightly  apply  your 
poetic  view,  my  goddess  might  be  represented  as  an  invinci- 
ble, victorious  queen,  and  boldly  opposed  to  yours.  It  is 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  43 

true,  she  bears  the  olive  rather  than  the  sword :  dagger  or 
chain  she  knows  not.  But  she,  too,  gives  crowns  to  her 
favorites  ;  which,  without  offence  to  yours  be  it  said,  are  of 
true  gold  from  the  furnace  -and  the  mine,  and  glance  with 
genuine  pearls,  which  she  brings  up  from  the  depths  of  the 
ocean  by  the  hands  of  her  unwearied  servants." 

This  sally  somewhat  nettled  Wilhelm ;  but  he  concealed 
his  sentiments,  remembering  that  Werner  used  to  listen  with 
composure  to  his  apostrophes.  Besides,  he  had  fairness 
enough  to  be  pleased  at  seeing  each  man  think  the  best  of 
his  own  peculiar  craft,  provided  only  his,  of  which  he  was 
so  passionately  fond,  were  likewise  left  in  peace. 

"And  for  you,"  exclaimed  Werner,  "who  take  so  warm 
an  interest  in  human  concerns,  what  a  sight  will  it  be  to 
behold  the  fortune,  which  accompanies  bold  undertakings, 
distributed  to  men  before  your  eyes  !  What  is  more  spirit- 
stirring  than  the  aspect  of  a  ship  arriving  from  a  lucky 
voyage,  or  soon  returning  with  a  rich  capture  ?  Not  only 
the  relatives,  the  acquaintances,  and  those  that  share  with 
the  adventurers,  but  every  unconcerned  spectator  also,  is  ex- 
cited, when  he  sees  the  joy  with  which  the  long-imprisoned 
shipman  springs  on  land  before  his  keel  has  wholly  reached 
it,  feeling  that  he  is  free  once  more,  and  now  can  trust  what 
he  has  rescued  from  the  false  sea  to  the  firm  and  faithful 
earth.  It  is  not,  my  friend,  in  figures  of  arithmetic  alone 
that  gain  presents  itself  before  us.  Fortune  is  the  goddess 
of  breathing  men  :  to  feel  her  favors  truly,  we  must  live  and 
be  men  who  toil  with  their  living  minds  and  bodies,  and  en- 
joy with  them  also." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IT  is  now  time  that  we  should  know  something  more  of 
Wilhelm's  father  and  of  Werner's,  —  two  men  of  very  differ- 
ent modes  of  thinking,  but  whose  opinions  so  far  coincided, 
that  both  regarded  commerce  as  the  noblest  calling  ;  and  both 
were  peculiarly  attentive  to  every  advantage  which  any  kind 
of  speculation  might  produce  to  them.  Old  Meister,  when 
his  father  died,  had  turned  into  money  a  valuable  collec- 
tion of  pictures,  drawings,  copper-plates,  and  antiquities : 


44  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

he  had  entirely  rebuilt  and  furnished  his  house  in  the  newest 
style,  and  turned  his  other  property  to  profit  in  all  possible 
ways.  A  considerable  portion  of  it  he  had  embarked  in 
trade,  under  the  direction  of.  the  elder  Werner,  —  a  man 
noted  as  an  active  merchant,  whose  speculations  were  com- 
monly favored  by  fortune.  But  nothing  was  so  much  desired 
oy  Meister  as  to  confer  upon  his  son  those  qualities  of  which 
himself  was  destitute,  and  to  leave  his  children  advantages 
which  he  reckoned  it  of  the  highest  importance  to  possess. 
Withal,  he  felt  a  peculiar  inclination  for  magnificence,  —  for 
whatever  catches  the  eye,  and  possesses  at  the  same  time 
real  worth  and  durability.  In  his  house  he  would  have  all 
things  solid  and  massive :  his  stores  must  be  copious  and 
rich,  all  his  plate  must  be  heavy,  the  furniture  of  his  table 
must  be  costly.  On  the  other  hand,  his  guests  were  seldom 
invited  ;  for  every  dinner  was  a  festival,  which,  both  for  its  ex- 
pense and  for  its  inconvenience,  could  not  often  be  repeated. 
The  economy  of  his  house  went  on  at  a  settled,  uniform 
rate ;  and  every  thing  that  moved  or  had  place  in  it  was  just 
what  yielded  no  one  any  real  enjoyment. 

The  elder  Werner,  in  his  dark  and  hampered  house,  led 
quite  another  sort  of  life.  The  business  of  the  day,  in  his 
narrow  counting-house,  at  his  ancient  desk,  once  done,  Wer- 
ner liked  to  eat  well,  and,  if  possible,  to  drink  better.  Nor 
could  he  fully  enjoy  good  things  in  solitude :  with  his  family 
he  must  always  see  at  table  his  friends,  and  any  stranger 
that  had  the  slightest  connection  with  his  house.  His  chairs 
were  of  unknown  age  and  antic  fashion,  but  he  daily  invited 
some  to  sit  on  them.  The  dainty  victuals  arrested  the  atten- 
tion of  his  guests,  and  none  remarked  that  they  were  served 
up  in  common  ware.  His  cellar  held  no  great  stock  of  wine, 
but  the  emptied  niches  were  usually  filled  by  more  of  a  supe- 
rior sort. 

So  lived  these  two  fathers,  often  meeting  to  take  counsel 
about  their  common  concerns.  On  the  day  we  are  speaking 
of,  it  had  been  determined  to  send  Wilhelm  out  from  home, 
for  the  despatch  of  some  commercia  affairs. . 

"  Let  him  look  about  him  in  the  world,"  said  old  Meister, 
"  and  at  the  same  time  carry  on  our  business  in  distant  parts. 
One  cannot  do  a  young  man  any  greater  kindness  than  initiate 
him  early  in  the  future  business  of  his  life.  Yoflr  son  re- 
turned so  happily  from  his  first  expedition,  and  transacted 
his  affairs  so  cleverly,  that  I  am  very  curious  to  see  how 
mine  will  do  :  his  experience,  I  fear,  will  cost  him  dearer." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  45 

Old  Meister  had  a  high  notion  of  his  son's  faculties  and 
capabilities :  he  said  this  in  the  hope  that  his  friend  would 
contradict  him,  and  hold  up  to  view  the  admirable  gifts  of 
the  youth.  Here,  however,  he  deceived  himself.  Old  Wer- 
ner, who,  in  practical  concerns,  would  trust  no  man  but 
such  as  he  had  prove'd,  answered  placidly,  "  One  must  try 
all  things.  We  can  send  him  on  the  same  journey  :  we  shall 
give  him  a  paper  of  directions  to  conduct  him.  There  are 
sundry  debts  to  be  gathered  in,  old  connections  are  to  be 
renewed,  new  ones  to  be  made.  He  may  likewise  help  the 
speculation  I  was  lately  talking  of ;  for,  without  punctual 
intelligence  gathered  on  the  spot,  there  is  little  to  be  done 
in  it." 

"  He  must  prepare,"  said  Meister,  "and  set  forth  as  soon 
as  possible.  Where  shall  we  get  a  horse  for  him  to  suit  this 
business?" 

"We  shall  not  seek  far.  The  shopkeeper  in  H ,  who 

owes  us  somewhat,  but  is  withal  a  good  man,  has  offered  me 
a  horse  instead  of  payn^ent.  My  son  knows  it,  and  tells 
me  it  is  a  serviceable  beast." 

"  He  may  fetch  it  himself.  Let  him  go  with  the  diligence  ; 
the  day  after  to-morrow  he  is  back  again  betimes ;  we  have 
his  saddle-bags  and  letters  made  ready  in  the  mean  time  ;  he 
can  set  out  on  Monday  morning." 

Wilhelm  was  sent  for,  and  informed  of  their  determina- 
tion. Who  so  glad  as  he,  now  seeing  the  means  of  exe- 
cuting his  purpose  put  into  his  hands,  the  opportunity  made 
ready  for  him,  without  co-operation  of  his  own  !  So  intense 
was  his  love,  so  full  was  his  conviction  of  the  perfect  recti- 
tude of  his  intention  to  escape  from  the  pressure  of  his  actual 
mode  of  life,  and  follow  a  new  and  nobler  career,  that  his 
conscience  did  not  in  the  least  rebel ;  no  anxiety  arose 
within  him ;  he  even  reckoned  the  deception  he  was  medi- 
tating holy.  He  felt  certain,  that,  in  the*  long-run,  parents 
and  relations  would  praise  and  bless  him  for  this  resolution : 
he  acknowledged  in  these  concurring  circumstances  the  sig- 
nal of  a  guiding  fate. 

How  slowly  the  time  passed  with  him  till  night,  till  the 
hour  when  he  should  again  see  his  Mariana !  He  sat  in  his 
chamber,  and  revolved  the  plan  of  his  journey ;  as  a  con- 
jurer, or  a  cunning  thief  in  durance,  often  draws  out  his  feet 
from  the  fast-locked  irons,  to  cherish  in  himself  the  convic- 
tion that  his  deliverance  is  possible,  nay,  nearer  than  short- 
sighted turnkeys  believe. 


46  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

At  last  the  appointed  hour  struck  :  he  went  out,  shook  off 
all  anxiety,  and  hastened  through  the  silent  streets.  In  the 
middle  of  the  great  square  he  raised  his  hands  to  the  sky, 
feeling  as  if  all  was  behind  him  and  below  him  :  he  had  freed 
himself  from  all.  One  moment  he  figured  himself  as  in  the 
arms  of  his  beloved,  the  next  as  glancing  with  her  in  the 
splendors  of  the  stage :  he  soared  aloft  in  a  world  of  hopes, 
only  now  and  then  the  call  of  some  watchman  brought  to  his 
recollection  that  he  was  still  wandering  on  the  vulgar  earth. 

Mariana  came  to  the  stairs  to  meet  him,  —  and  how  beauti- 
ful, how  lovely !  She  received  him  in  the  new  white  negligee  : 
he  thought  he  had  never  seen  her  so  charming.  Thus  did  she 
handsel  the  gift  of  her  absent  lover  in  the  arms  of  a  present 
one  ;  with  true  passion  she  lavished  on  her  darling  the  whole 
treasure  of  those  caresses  which  nature  suggested,  or  art  had 
taught :  need  we  ask  if  he  was  happy,  if  he  was  blessed? 

He  disclosed  to  her  what  had  passed,  and  showed  her,  in 
general  terms,  his  plan  and  his  wishes.  He  would  try,  he 
said,  to  find  a  residence,  then  come  back  for  her :  he  hoped 
she  would  not  refuse  him  her  hand.  The  poor  girl  was  silent : 
she  concealed  her  tears,  and  pressed  her  friend  against  her 
bosom.  Wilhelm,  though  interpreting  her  silence  in  the 
most  favorable  manner,  could  have  wished  for  a  distinct 
reply ;  and  still  more,  when  at  last  he  inquired  of  her  in  the 
tenderest  and  most  delicate  terms,  if  he  might  not  think  him- 
self a  father.  But  to  this  she  answered  only  with  a  sigh, 
with  a  kiss. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

NEXT  morning  Mariana  awoke  only  to  new  despondency  ; 
she  felt  herself  very  solitary ;  she  wished  not  to  see  the  light 
of  day,  but  staid  in  bed,  and  wept.  Old  Barbara  sat  down 
by  her,  and  tried  to  persuade  and  console  her ;  but  it  was 
not  in  her  power  so  soon  to  heal  the  wounded  heart.  The 
moment  was  now  at  hand  to  which  the  poor  girl  had  been 
looking  forward  as  to  the  last  of  her  life.  Who  could  be 
placed  in  a  more  painful  situation?  The  man  she  loved  was 
departing ;  a  disagreeable  lover  was  threatening  to  come  ; 
and  the  most  fearful  mischiefs  were  to  be  anticipated,  if  the 
two,  as  might  easily  happen,  should  meet  together. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  47 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  woman  :  "  do  not 
spoil  your  pretty  eyes  with  crying.  Is  it,  then,  so  terrible 
a  thing  to  have  two  lovers  ?  And  though  you  can  bestow 
your  love  but  on  the  one,  yet  be  thankful  to  the  other,  who, 
caring  for  you  as  he  does,  certainly  deserves  to  be  named 
your  friend." 

"My  poor  "Wilhelm,"  said  the  other,  all  in  tears,  "  had 
warning  that  a  separation  was  at  hand.  A  dream  discov- 
ered to  him  what  we  strove  so  much  to  hide.  He  was  sleep- 
ing calmly  at  my  side  ;  on  a  sudden  I  heard  him  mutter  some 
unintelligible  sounds  :  I  grew  frightened,  and  awoke  him. 
Ah !  with  what  love  and  tenderness  and  warmth  did  he  clasp 
me !  '  O  Mariana ! '  cried  he,  '  what  a  horrid  fate  have 
you  freed  me  from  !  How  shall  I  thank  you  for  deliverance 
from  such  torment?  I  dreamed  that  I  was  far  from  you  in 
an  unknown  country,  but  your  figure  hovered  before  me ;  I 
saw  you  on  a  beautiful  hill,  the  sunshine  was  glancing  over 
it  all ;  how  charming  you  looked !  But  it  had  not  lasted 
long,  before  I  observed  your  image  sinking  down,  sinking, 
sinking :  I  stretched  out  my  arms  towards  you  ;  they  could 
not  reach  you  through  the  distance.  Your  image  still  kept 
gliding  down :  it  approached  a  great  sea  that  lay  far  ex- 
tended at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  —  a  marsh  rather  than  a  sea. 
All  at  once  a  man  gave  you  his  hand,  and  seemed  meaning 
to  conduct  you  upwards ;  but  he  led  you  sidewards,  and 
appeared  to  draw  you  after  him.  I  cried  out :  as  I  could 
not  reach  you,  I  hoped  to  warn  you.  If  I  tried  to  walk,  the 
ground  seemed  to  hold  me  fast ;  if  I  could  walk,  the  water 
hindered  me ;  and  even  my  cries  were  smothered  in  my 
breast.'  So  said  the  poor  youth,  while  recovering  from  his 
terror,  and  reckoning  himself  happy  to  see  a  frightful  dream 
thrust  aside  by  the  most  delicious  reality." 

Barbara  made  every  effort  to  reduce,  by  her  prose,  the 
poetry  of  her  friend  to  the  domain  of  common  life  ;  employ- 
ing, in  the  present  case,  the  ingenious  craft  which  so  often 
succeeds  with  bird-catchers,  when  they  imitate  with  a  whistle 
the  tones  of  those  luckless  creatures  they  soon  hope  to  see 
by  dozens  safely  lodged  in  their  nets.  She  praised  Wilhelm  : 
she  expatiated  on  his  figure,  his  eyes,  his  love.  The  poor 
girl  heard  her  with  a  gratified  heart,  then  arose,  let  herself 
be  dressed,  and  appeared  calmer.  "  My  child,  my  darling," 
continued  the  old  woman,  in  a  cozening  tone,  "I  will  not 
trouble  you  or  injure  you  :  I  cannot  think  of  tearing  from 
you  your  dearest  happiness.  Could  you  mistake  my  inten- 


4S  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

tion  ?  Have  you  forgotten  that  on  all  occasions  I  have  cared 
for  you  more  than  for  myself?  Tell  me  only  what  you  wish  : 
we  shall  soon  see  how  it  may  be  brought  about." 

"What  can  I  wish?"  said  Mariana;  "I  am  miserable, 
miserable  for  life :  I  love  him,  and  he  loves  me  ;  yet  I  see 
that  I  must  part  with  him,  and  know  not  how  I  shall  survive 
it.  Norberg  is  coming,  to  whom  we  owe  our  whole  subsist- 
ence, whom  we  cannot  live  without.  Wilhelm  is  straitened 
in  his  fortune  :  he  can  do  nothing  for  me." 

"  Yes,  unfortunately,  he  is  of  those  lovers  who  bring  noth- 
ing but  their  hearts  ;  and  these  people,  too,  have  the  high- 
est pretensions  of  any." 

"  No  jesting  !  The  unhappy  youth  thinks  of  leaving  his 
home,  of  going  upon  the  stage,  of  offering  me  his  hand." 

"  Of  empty  hands  we  have  already  four." 

"  I  have  no  choice,"  continued  Mariana :  "do  you  decide 
for  me.  Cast  me  away  to  this  side  or  to  that :  mark  only 
one  thing,  — I  think  I  carry  in  my  bosom  a  pledge  that  ought 
to  unite  me  with  him  still  more  closely.  Consider  and  deter- 
mine :  whom  shall  I  forsake?  whom  shall  I  follow?  " 

After  a  short  silence,  Barbara  exclaimed,  "Strange,  that 
youth  should  always  be  for  extremes  !  To  my  view,  nothing 
would  be  easier  than  for  us  to  combine  both  the  profit  and 
the  enjoyment.  Do  you  love  the  one,  let  the  other  pay  for 
it :  all  we  have  to  mind,  is  being  sharp  enough  to  keep  the 
two  from  meeting." 

"  Do  as  you  please :  I  can  imagine  nothing,  but  I  will 
obey." 

"  We  have  this  advantage  :  we  can  humor  the  manager's 
caprice  and  pride  about  the  morals  of  his  troop.  Both  lovers 
are  accustomed  already  to  go  secretly  and  cautiously  to  work. 
For  hours  and  opportunity  I  will  take  thought :  only  hence- 
forth you  must  act  the  part  that  I  prescribe  to  you.  Who 
knows  what  circumstances  may  arise  to  help  us  ?  If  Nor- 
berg  would  arrive  even  now,  when  Wilhelm  is  away  !  Who 
can  hinder  you  from  thinking  of  the  one  in  the  arms  of  the 
other?  I  wish  you  a  son,  and  good  fortune  with  him:  he 
will  have  a  rich  father." 

These  projects  lightened  Mariana's  despondency  only  for 
a  very  short  time.  She  could  not  bring  her  situation  into 
harmony  with  her  feelings,  with  her  convictions  :  she  would 
fain  have  forgotten  the  painful  relations  in  which  she  stood, 
and  a  thousand  little  circumstances  forced  them  back  every 
moment  to  her  recollection. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  49 


CHARTER   XIII. 

IN  the  mean  time,  Wilhelm  had  completed  the  short  pre- 
liminary journey.  His  merchant  being  from  home,  he  deliv- 
ered the  letter  of  introduction  to  the  mistress  of  the  house. 
But  neither  did  this  lady  give  him  much  furtherance  in  his 
purposes :  she  was  in  a  violent  passion,  and  her  whole  econ- 
omy was  in  confusion. 

He  had  not  waited  long  when  she  disclosed  to  him,  what 
in  truth  could  not  be  kept  a  secret,  that  her  step-daughter 
had  run  off  with  a  player,  —  a  person  who  had  parted  lately 
from  a  small  strolling  company,  and  had  staid  in  the  place, 
and  commenced  teaching  French.  The  father,  distracted 
with  grief  and  vexation,  had  run  to  the  Amt  to  have  the  fugi- 
tives pursued.  She  blamed  her  daughter  bitterly,  and  vili- 
fied the  lover,  till  she  left  no  tolerable  quality  with  either : 
she  deplored  at  great  length  the  shame  thus  brought  upon  the 
family ;  embarrassing  our  hero  not  a  little,  who  here  felt  his 
own  private  scheme  beforehand  judged  and  punished,  in  the 
spirit  of  prophecy  as  it  were,  by  this  frenzied  sibyl.  Still 
stronger  and  deeper  was  the  interest  he  took  in  the  sorrows 
of  the  father,  who  now  returned  from  the  Ami,  and  with 
fixed  sorrow,  in  broken  sentences,  gave  his  wife  an  account 
of  the  errand,  and  strove  to  hide  the  embarrassment  and  dis- 
traction of  his  mind ;  while,  after  looking  at  the  letter,  he 
directed  that  the  horse  it  spoke  of  should  be  given  to  Wil- 
helm. 

Our  friend  thought  it  best  to  mount  his  steed  immediately, 
and  quit  a  house  where,  in  its  present  state,  he  could  not 
possibly  be  comfortable  ;  but  the  honest  man  would  not  allow 
the  son  of  one  to  whom  he  had  so  many  obligations  to  depart 
without  tasting  of  his  hospitality,  without  remaining  at  least 
a  night  beneath  his  roof. 

Wilhelm  had  partaken  of  a  melancholy  supper,  worn  out 
a  restless  night,  and  hastened,  early  in  the  morning,  to  get 
rid  of  these  people,  who,  without  knowing  it,  had,  by  their 
narratives  and  utterances,  been  constantly  wounding  him  to 
the  quick. 

In  a  musing  mood,  he  was  riding  slowly  along,  when  all 
at  once  he  observed  a  number  of  armed  men  coming  through 
the  fields.  By  their  long,  loose  coats,  with  enormous  cuffs  ; 
by  their  shapeless  hats,  clumsy  muskets ;  by  their  unpre- 
tending gait,  and  contented  bearing  of  the  bod}7, — he  rec- 


50  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ognized  in  these  people  a  detachment  of  provincial  militia. 
They  halted  beneath  an  old  oak,  set  down  their  fire-arms, 
and  placed  themselves  at  their  ease  upon  the  sward,  to  smoke 
a  pipe  of  tobacco.  Wilhelm  lingered  near  them,  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  a  young  man  who  came  up  on  horse- 
back. The  history  of  the  two  runaways,  which  he  knew  but 
too  well,  was  again  detailed  to  him,  and  that  with  comments 
not  particularly  flattering,  either  to  the  young  pair  them- 
selves, or  to  the  parents.  He  also  learned  that  the  military 
had  come  hither  to  take  into  custody  the  loving  couple,  who 
had  already  been  seized  and  detained  in  a  neighboring 
village.  After  some  time,  accordingly,  a  cart  was  seen  ad- 
vancing to  the  place,  encircled  with  a  city  guard  more  ludi- 
crous than  appalling.  An  amorphous  town-clerk  rode  forth, 
and  made  his  compliments  to  the  Actuarius  (for  such  was 
the  young  man  Wilhelm  had  been  speaking  to) ,  on  the  bor- 
der of  their  several  districts,  with  great  conscientiousness 
and  queer  grimaces ;  as  perhaps  the  ghost  and  the  conjurer 
do,  when  they  meet,  the  one  within  the  circle  and  the  other 
out  of  it,  in  their  dismal  midnight  operations. 

But  the  chief  attention  of  the  lookers-on  was  directed  to 
the  cart :  they  could  not  behold,  without  compassion,  the 
poor,  misguided  creatures,  who  were  sitting  upon  bundles  of 
straw,  looking  tenderly  at  one  another,  and  scarcely  seeming 
to  observe  the  by-standers.  Accident  had  forced  their  con- 
ductors to  bring  them  from  the  last  village  in  that  unseemly 
style ;  the  old  chaise,  which  had  previously  transported  the 
lady,  having  there  broken  down.  On  that  occurrence  she 
had  begged  for  permission  to  sit  beside  her  friend ;  whom, 
in  the  conviction  that  his  crime  was  of  a  capital  sort,  the 
rustic  bailiffs  had  so  far  brought  along  in  irons.  These  irons 
certainly  contributed  to  give  the  tender  group  a  more  inter- 
esting appearance,  particularly  as  the  young  man  moved  and 
bore  himself  with  great  dignity,  while  he  kissed  more  thai* 
once  the  hands  of  his  fair  companion. 

"  We  are  unfortunate,"  she  cried  to  the  by-standers,  "  but 
not  so  guilty  as  we  seem.  It  is  thus  that  cruel  men  reward 
true  love ;  and  parents,  who  entirely  neglect  the  happiness 
of  their  children,  tear  them  with  fury  from  the  arms  of  joy, 
when  it  has  found  them  after  many  weary  days." 

The  spectators  were  expressing  their  sympathy  in  various 
ways,  when,  the  officers  of  law  having  finished  their  cere- 
monial, the  cart  went  on  ;  and  Wilhelm,  who  took  a  deep 
interest  in  the  fate  of  the  lovers,  hastened  forward  by  a  foot 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  51 

path  to  get  some  acquaintance  with  the  Amtmann  before  the 
procession  should  arrive.  But  scarcely  had  he  reached  the 
Amthaus,  where  all  was  in  motion,  and  ready  to  receive 
the  fugitives,  when  his  new  friend,  the  Actuarius,  laid  hold 
of  him  ;  and  giving  him  a  circumstantial  detail  of  the  whole 
proceedings,  and  then  launching  out  into  a  comprehensive 
eulogy  of  his  own  horse,  which  he  had  got  by  barter  the  night 
before,  put  a  stop  to  every  other  sort  of  conversation. 

The  luckless  pair,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  set  down  be- 
hind, at  the  garden,  which  communicated  by  a  little  door 
with  the  Amtliaus,  and  thus  brought  in  unobserved.  The 
Actuarius,  for  this  mild  and  handsome  treatment,  accepted 
of  a  just  encomium  from  Wilhelm  ;  though  in  truth  his  sole 
object  had  been  to  mortify  the  crowd  collected  in  front  of 
the  Amthaus,  by  denying  them  the  satisfaction  of  looking  at 
a  neighbor  in  disgrace. 

The  Amtmann,  who  had  no  particular  taste  for  such  ex- 
traordinary occurrences,  being  wont  on  these  occasions  to 
commit  frequent  errors,  and,  with  the  best  intentions,  to  be 
often  paid  with  sour  admonitions  from  the  higher  powers, 
went  with  heavy  steps  into  his  office-room ;  the  Actuarius 
with  Wilhelm  and  a  few  respectable  citizens  following  him. 

The  lady  was  first  produced :  she  advanced  without  pert- 
ness,  calm  and  self-possessed.  The  manner  of  her  dress,  the 
way  in  which  she  bore  herself,  showed  that  she  was  a  person 
not  without  value  in  her  own  eyes.  She  accordingly  began, 
without  any  questions  being  put,  to  speak,  not  unskilfully, 
about  her  situation. 

The  Actuarius  bade  her  be  silent,  and  held  his  pen  over 
the  folded  sheet.  The  Amtmann  gathered  up  his  resolution, 
looked  at  his  assistant,  cleared  his  throat  by  two  or  three 
hems,  and  asked  the  poor  girl  what  was  her  name,  and  how 
old  she  was. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  she,  "but  it  seems  very 
strange  to  me  that  you  ask  my  name  and  age,  seeing  you 
know  very  well  what  my  name  is,  and  that  I  am  just  of  the 
age  of  your  oldest  son.  What  you  do  want  to  know  of  me, 
and  need  to  know,  I  will  tell  freely  without  circumlocution. 

"  Since  my  father's  second  marriage,  my  situation  in  his 
house  has  not  been  of  the  most  enviable  sort.  Oftener  than 
once  I  have  had  it  in  my  power  to  make  a  suitable  marriage, 
had  not  my  step-mother,  dreading  the  expense  of  my  por- 
tion, taken  care  to  thwart  all  such  proposals.  At  length  I 
grew  acquainted  with  the  young  Melina ;  I  felt  constrained 


52  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  love  him  ;  and,  as  we  both  foresaw  the  obstacles  that  stood 
in  the  way  of  our  regular  union,  we  determined  to  go  forth 
together,  and  seek  in  the  wide  world  the  happiness  denied  us 
at  home.  I  took  nothing  with  me  that  was  not  my  own  :  we 
did  not  run  away  like  thieves  and  robbers ;  and  my  lover 
does  not  merit  to  be  hauled  about  in  this  way,  with  chains 
and  handcuffs.  The  prince  is  just,  and  will  not  sanction 
such  severity.  If  we  are  liable  to  punishment,  it  is  not  pun- 
ishment of  this  kind." 

The  old  Amtmann  hereupon  fell  into  double  and  treble  con- 
fusion. Sounds  of  the  most  gracious  eulogies  were  already 
humming  through  his  brain,  and  the  girl's  voluble  speech 
had  entirely  confounded  the  plan  of  his  protocol.  The  mis- 
chief increased,  when  to  repeated  official  questions  she  refused 
giving  any  answer,  but  constantly  referred  to  what  she  had 
already  said. 

"  I  am  no  criminal,"  she  said.  "  They  have  brought  me 
hither  on  bundles  of  straw  to  put  me  to  shame,  but  there  is 
a  higher  court  that  will  bring  us  back  to  honor." 

The  Actuarius,  in  the  mean  time,  had  kept  writing  down 
her  words  :  he  whispered  the  Amtmann,  "  just  to  go  on,  —  a 
formal  protocol  might  be  made  out  by  and  by." 

The  senior  then  again  took  heart,  and  began,  with  his 
heavy  words,  in  dry  prescribed  formulas,  to  seek  informa- 
tion about  the  sweet  secrets  of  love. 

The  red  mounted  into  Wilhelm's  cheeks,  and  those  of  the 
pretty  criminal  likewise  glowed  with  the  charming  tinge  of 
modesty.  She  was  silent,  she  stammered,  till  at  last  her 
embarrassment  itself  seemed  to  exalt  her  courage. 

u  Be  assured,"  she  cried,  "that  I  should  have  strength 
enough  to  confess  the  truth,  though  it  made  against  myself ; 
and  shall  I  now  hesitate  and  stammer,  when  it  does  me 
honor  ?  Yes :  from  the  moment  when  I  first  felt  certain  of 
his  love  and  faith,  I  looked  upon  him  as  my  husband ;  I 
freely  gave  him  all  that  love  requires,  —  that  a  heart  once 
convinced  cannot  long  refuse.  Now  do  with  me  what  you 
please.  If  I  hesitated  for  a  moment  to  confess,  it  was  solely 
owing  to  fear  lest  the  admission  might  prove  hurtful  to  my 
lover." 

On  hearing  this  confession,  Wilhelm  formed  a  high  opinion 
of  the  young  woman's  feelings,  while  her  judges  marked  her 
as  an  impudent  strumpet ;  and  the  townsfolk  present  thanked 
God  that  in  their  families  no  such  scandal  had  occurred,  or 
at  least  been  brought  to  light. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  53 

Wilhelra  transported  his  Mariana  into  this  conjuncture, 
answering  at  the  bar :  he  put  still  finer  words  in  her  mouth, 
making  her  uprightness  yet  more  affecting,  her  confession 
still  nobler.  The  most  violent  desire  to  help  the  two  lovers 
took  possession  of  him.  Nor  did  he  conceal  this  feeling,  but 
signified  in  private  to  the  wavering  Amtmann,  that  it  were 
better  to  end  the  business ;  all  being  clear  as  possible,  and 
requiring  no  further  investigation. 

This  was  so  far  of  service  that  the  young  woman  was 
allowed  to  retire  ;  though,  in  her  stead,  the  lover  was  brought 
in,  his  fetters  having  previously  been  taken  off  him  at  the 
door.  This  person  seemed  a  little  more  concerned  about  his 
fate.  His  answers  were  more  careful ;  and,  if  he  showed 
less  heroic  generosity,  he  recommended  himself  by  the  pre- 
cision and  distinctness  of  his  expressions. 

"When  this  audience  also  was  finished,  and  found  to  agree 
in  all  poiuts  with  the  former,  except  that,  from  regard  for 
his  mistress,  Melina  stubbornly  denied  what  had  already  been 
confessed  by  herself,  the  young  woman  was  again  brought 
forward ;  and  a  scene  took  place  between  the  two,  which 
made  the  heart  of  our  friend  entirely  their  own. 

What  usually  occurs  nowhere  but  in  romances  and  plays, 
he  saw  here  in  a  paltry  court-room  before  his  eyes,  —  the  con- 
test of  reciprocal  magnanimity,  the  strength  of  love  in  mis- 
fortune. 

"  Is  it,  then,  true,"  said  he  internally,  "  that  timorous 
affection ,  which  conceals  itself  from  the  eye  of  the  sun  and  of 
men,  not  daring  to  taste  of  enjoyment  save  in  remote  soli- 
tude and  deep  secrecy,  yet,  if  torn  rudely  by  some  cruel 
chance  into  light,  will  show  itself  more  courageous,  strong, 
and  resolute  than  any  of  our  loud  and  ostentatious  pas- 
sions? " 

To  his  comfort,  the  business  now  soon  came  to  a  conclu- 
sion. The  lovers  were  detained  in  tolerable  quarters  :  had  it 
been  possible,  he  would  that  very  evening  have  brought  back 
the  young  lady  to  her  parents.  For  he  firmly  determined  to 
act  as  intercessor  in  this  case,  and  to  forward  a  happy  and 
lawful  union  between  the  lovers. 

He  begged  permission  of  the  Amtmann  to  speak  in  private 
with  Melina,  a  request  which  was  granted  without  difficulty. 


54  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  conversation  of  these  new  acquaintances  very  soon 
grew  confidential  and  lively.  When  Wilhelm  told  the  down- 
cast youth  of  his  connection  with  the  lady's  parents,  and 
offered  to  mediate  in  the  affair,  showing  at  the  same  time 
the  strongest  expectation  of  success,  a  light  was  shed  across 
the  dreary  and  anxious  mind  of  the  prisoner :  he  felt  him- 
self already  free,  already  reconciled  with  the  parents  of  his 
bride,  and  now  began  to  speak  about  his  future  occupation 
and  support. 

"  On  this  point,"  said  our  friend,  "  you  cannot  long  be  in 
difficultj^ ;  for  you  seem  to  me  directed,  not  more  by  your 
circumstances  than  by  nature,  to  make  your  fortune  in  the 
noble  profession  you  have  chosen.  A  pleasing  figure,  a 
sonorous  voice,  a  feeling  heart !  Could  an  actor  be  better 
furnished?  If  I  can  serve  you  with  a  few  introductions,  it 
will  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure." 

"  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,"  replied  the  other,  "  but 
I  shall  hardly  be  able  to  make  use  of  them  ;  for  it  is  my  pur- 
pose, if  possible,  not  to  return  to  the  stage." 

"  Here  you  are  certainly  to  blame,"  said  Wilhelm,  after  a 
pause,  during  which  he  had  partly  recovered  out  of  his 
astonishment ;  for  it  had  never  once  entered  his  head,  but 
that  the  player,  the  moment  his  young  wife  and  he  were  out 
of  durance,  would  repair  to  some  theatre.  It  seemed  to  him 
as  natural  and  as  necessary  as  for  the  frog  to  seek  pools  of 
water.  He  had  not  doubted  of  it  for  a  moment,  and  he  now 
heard  the  contrary  with  boundless  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Melina,  "  I  have  it  in  view  not  to  re-ap- 
pear upon  the  stage,  but  rather  to  take  up  some  civil  call- 
ing, be  it  what  it  will,  so  that  I  can  but  obtain  one." 

"  This  is  a  strange  resolution,  which  I  cannot  give  my  ap- 
probation to.  Without  especial  reasons,  it  can  never  be  ad- 
visable to  change  the  mode  of  life  we  have  begun  with ;  and, 
besides,  I  know  of  no  condition  that  presents  so  much  al- 
lurement, so  many  charming  prospects,  as  the  condition  of 
au  actor." 

"It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  have  never  been  one,"  said 
the  other. 

"  Alas,  sir,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  how  seldom  is  any 
man  contented  with  the  station  where  he  happens  to  be 
placed !  He  is  ever  coveting  that  of  his  neighbor,  from 
"•'-Soli  ti.o  r>o?o-M>or  in  his  turn  is  longing  to  be  free." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  55 

"  Yet  still  there  is  a  difference,"  said  Melina,  "  between 
bad  and  worse.  Experience,  not  impatience,  makes  me 
determine  as  you  see.  Is  there  in  the  world  any  creature 
whose  morsel  of  bread  is  attended  with  such  vexation,  un- 
certainty, and  toil?  It  were  almost  as  good  to  take  the  staff 
and  wallet,  and  beg  from  door  to  door.  What  things  to  be 
endured  from  the  envy  of  rivals,  from  the  partiality  of 
managers,  from  the  ever-altering  caprices  of  the  public !  In 
truth,  one  would  need  to  have  a  hide  like  a  bear's,  that  is 
led  about  in  a  chain  along  with  apes,  and  dogs  of  knowledge, 
and  cudgelled  into  dancing  at  the  sound  of  a  bagpipe  before 
the  populace  and  children." 

Wilhelm  thought  a  thousand  things,  which  he  would  not 
vex  the  worthy  man  by  uttering.  He  merely,  therefore,  led 
the  conversation  round  them  at  a  distance.  His  friend  ex- 
plained himself  the  more  candidly  and  circumstantially  on 
that  account.  "  Is  not  the  manager  obliged,"  said  he,  "  to 
fall  down  at  the  feet  of  every  little  Stadtrath,  that  he  may 
get  permission,  for  a  month  between  the  fairs,  to  cause 
another  yroschen  or  two  to  circulate  in  the  place  ?  Ours,  on 
the  whole,  a  worthy  man,  I  have  often  pitied ;  though  at 
other  times  he  gave  me  cause  enough  for  discontentment. 
A  good  actor  drains  him  by  extortion  ;  of  the  bad  he  cannot 
rid  himself ;  and,  should  he  try  to  make  his  income  at  all 
equal  to  his  outlay,  the  public  immediately  takes  umbrage, 
the  house  stands  empty :  and,  not  to  go  to  wreck  entirely, 
he  must  continue  acting  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  and  vexation. 
No,  no,  sir !  Since  you  are  so  good  as  to  undertake  to  help 
me,  have  the  kindness,  I  entreat  you,  to  plead  with  the 
parents  of  my  bride :  let  them  get  me  a  little  post  of  clerk 
or  collector,  and  I  shall  think  myself  well  dealt  with." 

After  exchanging  a  few  words  more,  Wilhelm  went  away 
with  the  promise  to  visit  the  parents  early  in  the  morning, 
and  see  what  could  be  done.  Scarcely  was  he  by  himself, 
when  he  gave  utterance  to  his  thoughts  in  these  exclama-; 
tions  :  "  Unhappy  Melina !  not  in  thy  condition,  but  in  thy- 
self, lies  the  mean  impediment  over  which  thou  canst  not 
gain  the  mastery.  What  mortal  in  the  world,  if  without  in^ 
ward  calling  he  take  up  a  trade,  an  art,  or  any  mode  of  Ijfe, 
will  not  feel  his  situation  miserable?  But  he  who  is  bori* 
with  capacities  for  any  undertaking,  finds  in  executing  this 
Ihe  fairest  portion  of  his  being.  Nothing  upon  earth  with- 
out its  difficulties  !  It  is  the  secret  impulse  within,  it  is  the 
love  and  the  delight  we  feel,  that  help  us  to  conquer  ob- 


56  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

stacles,  to  clear  out  new  paths,  and  to  overleap  the  bounds 
of  that  narrow  circle  in  which  others  poorly  toil.  For  thee 
the  stage  is  but  a  few  boards :  the  parts  assigned  thee  are 
but  what  a  task  is  to  a  schoolboy.  The  spectators  thou 
regardest  as  on  work-days  they  regard  each  other.  For  thee, 
then,  it  may  be  well  to  wish  thyself  behind  a  desk,  over  ruled 
ledgers,  collecting  tolls,  and  picking  out  reversions.  Thou 
feelest  not  the  co-operating,  co-inspiring  whole,  which  the 
mind  alone  can  invent,  comprehend,  and  complete :  thou 
feelest  not  that  in  man  there  lives  a  spark  of  purer  fire, 
which,  when  it  is  not  fed,  when  it  is  not  fanned,  gets 
covered  by  the  ashes  of  indifference  and  daily  wants,  yet 
not  till  late,  perhaps  never,  can  be  altogether  quenched. 
Thou  feelest  in  thy  soul  no  strength  to  fan  this  spark  into  a 
flame,  no  riches  in  thy  heart  to  teed  it  when  aroused. 
Hunger  drives  thee  on,  inconveniences  withstand  thee  ;  and  it 
is  hidden  from  thee,  that,  in  every  human  condition,  foes  lie 
in  wait  for  us,  invincible  except  by  cheerfulness  and  equa- 
nimity. Thou  dost  well  to  wish  thyself  within  the  limits  of 
a  common  station,  for  what  station  that  required  soul  aud 
resolution  couldst  thou  rightly  fill?  Give  a  soldier,  a 
statesman,  a  divine,  thy  sentiments,  and  as  justly  will  he 
fret  himself  about  the  miseries  of  his  condition.  Nay,  have 
there  not  been  men  so  totally  forsaken  by  all  feeling  of 
existence,  that  they  have  held  the  life  and  nature  of  mortals 
as  a  nothing,  a  painful,  short,  and  tarnished  gleam  of  being? 
Did  the  forms  of  active  men  rise  up  living  in  thy  soul ;  were 
thy  breast  warmed  by  a  S3~mpathetic  fire ;  did  the  vocation 
winch  proceeds  from  within  diffuse  itself  over  all  thy  frame  ; 
were  the  tones  of  thy  voice,  the  words  of  thy  mouth,  delight- 
ful to  hear ;  didst  thou  feel  thy  own  being  sufficient  for 
thyself,  —  then  wouldst  thou  doubtless  seek  place  and  op- 
portunity likewise  to  feel  it  in  others." 

Amid  such  words  and  thoughts,  our  friend  undressed  him- 
self, and  went  to  bed,  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  satisfac- 
tion. A  whole  romance  of  what  he  now  hoped  to  do,  instead 
of  the  worthless  occupations  which  should  have  filled  the 
approaching  day,  arose  within  his  mind :  pleasant  fantasies 
softly  conducted  him  into  the  kingdom  of  sleep,  and  then 
gave  him  up  to  their  sisters,  sweet  dreams,  who  received 
him  with  open  arms,  and  encircled  his  reposing  head  with 
the  images  of  heaven. 

Early  in  the  moraing  he  was  awake  again,  and  thinking  of 
the  business  that  lay  before  him.  He  revisited  the  house 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  57 

.of  the  forsaken  family,  where  his  presence  caused  no  small 
surprise.  He  introduced  his  proposal  in  the  most  prudent 
manner,  and  soon  found  both  more  and  fewer  difficulties 
than  he  had  anticipated.  For  one  thing,  the  evil  was  already 
done:  and  though  people  of  a  singularly  strict  and  harsh 
temper  are  wont  to  set  themselves  forcibly  against  the  past, 
and  thus  to  increase  the  evil  that  cannot  now  be  remedied ; 
yet,  on  the  other  hand,  what  is  actually  done  exerts  an  irre- 
sistible effect  upon  most  minds :  an  event  which  lately  ap- 
peared impossible  takes  its  place,  so  soon  as  it  has  really 
occurred,  with  what  occurs  daily.  It  was  accordingly  soon 
settled,  that  H^rr  Melina  was  to  wed  the  daughter;  who, 
however,  in  return,  because  of  her  misconduct,  was  to  take 
no  marriage-portion  with  her,  and  to  promise  that  she  would 
leave  her  aunt's  legacy,  for  a  few  years  more,  at  an  easy 
interest,  in  her  father's  hands.  But  the  second  point,  touch- 
ing a  civil  provision  for  Melina,  was  attended  with  greater 
difficulties.  They  liked  not  to  have  the  luckless  pair  con- 
tinually living  in  their  sight :  they  would  not  have  a  present 
object  ever  calling  to  their  minds  the  connection  of  a  mean 
vagabond  with  so  respectable  a  family,  —  a  family  which 
could  number  even  a  superintendent  among  its  relatives  ;  nay, 
it  was  not  to  be  looked  for,  that  the  government  would  trust 
him  with  a  charge.  Both  parents  were  alike  inflexible  in 
this  matter ;  and  Wilhelm,  who  pleaded  very  hard,  unwilling 
that  a  man  whom  he  contemned  should  return  to  the  stage, 
and  convinced  that  he  deserved  not  such  a  happiness,  could 
not,  with  all  his  rhetoric,  produce  the  slenderest  impression. 
Had  he  known  the  secret  springs  of  the  business,  he  would 
have  spared  himself  the  labor  of  attempting  to  persuade. 
The  father  would  gladly  have  kept  his  daughter  near  him ; 
but  he  hated  the  young  man,  because  his  wife  herself  had 
cast  an  eye  upon  him :  while  the  latter  could  not  bear  to 
have,  in  her  step-daughter,  a  happy  rival  constantly  before 
her  eyes.  So  Melina  with  his  young  wife,  who  already 
manifested  no  dislike  to  go  and  see  the  world,  and  be  seen 
of  it,  was  obliged,  against  his  will,  to  set  forth  in  a  few 
days,  and  seek  some  place  in  any  acting  company  where  he 
could  find  one. 


58  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HAPPY  season  of  youth !  Happy  times  of  the  first  wish 
of  love  !  A  man  is  then  like  a  child  that  can  for  hours  de- 
light itself  with  an  echo,  can  support  alone  the  charges  of 
conversation,  and  be  well  contented  with  its  entertainment, 
if  the  unseen  interlocutor  will  but  repeat  the  concluding 
syllables  of  the  words  addressed  to  it. 

So  was  it  with  Wilhelm  in  the  earlier  and  still  more  in  the 
later  period  of  his  passion  for  Mariana ;  he  transferred  the 
whole  wealth  of  his  own  emotions  to  her,  and  looked  upon 
himself  as  a  beggar  that  lived  upon  her  alms  :  and  as  a  land- 
scape is  more  delightful,  nay,  is  delightful  only,  when  it  is 
enlightened  by  the  sun  ;  so  likewise  in  his  eyes  were  all  things 
beautified  and  glorified  which  lay  round  her  or  related  to 
her. 

Often  would  he  stand  in  the  theatre  behind  the  scenes,  to 
which  he  had  obtained  the  freedom  of  access  from  the  man- 
ager. In  such  cases,  it  is  true,  the  perspective  magic  was 
away ;  but  the  far  mightier  sorcery  of  love  then  first  began 
to  act.  For  hours  he  could  stand  by  the  sooty  light-frame, 
inhaling  the  vapor  of  tallow  lamps,  looking  out  at  his  mis- 
tress ;  and  when  she  returned,  and  cast  a  kindly  glance  upon 
him,  he  could  feel  himself  lost  in  ecstasy  ;  and,  though  close 
upon  laths  and  bare  spars,  he  seemed  transported  into  para- 
dise. The  stuffed  bunches  of  wool  denominated  lambs,  the 
waterfalls  of  tin,  the  paper  roses,  and  the  one-sided  huts  of 
straw,  awoke  in  him  fair  poetic  visions  of  an  old  pastoral 
world.  Nay,  the  very  dancing-girls,  ugly  as  the%y  were  when 
seen  at  hand,  did  not  always  inspire  him  with  disgust :  they 
trod  the  same  floor  with  Mariana.  So  true  is  it,  that  love, 
which  alone  can  give  their  full  charm  to  rose-bowers,  myrtle- 
groves,  and  moonshine,  can  also  communicate,  even  to  shav- 
ings of  wood,  and  paper-clippings,  the  aspect  of  animated 
nature.  It  is  so  strong  a  spice,  that  tasteless  or  even  nau- 
seous soups  are  by  it  rendered  palatable. 

So  potent  a  spice  was  certainly  required  to  render  tolera- 
ble, nay,  at  last  agreeable,  the  state  in  which  he  usually 
found  her  chamber,  not  to  say  herself. 

Brought  up  in  a  substantial  burgher's  house,  cleanliness 
and  order  were  the  elements  in  which  he  breathed  ;  and,  in- 
heriting as  he  did  a  portion  of  his  father's  taste  for  finery, 
it  had  always  been  his  care,  in  boyhood,  to  furbish  up  his 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  59 

chamber,  which  he  regarded  as  his  little  kingdom,  in  the 
stateliest  fashion.  His  bed-curtains  were  drawn  together  in 
large,  massy  folds,  and  fastened  with  tassels,  as  they  are 
usually  seen  in  thrones  ;  he  had  got  himself  a  carpet  for  the 
middle  of  his  chamber,  and  a  finer  one  for  his  table ;  his 
books  and  apparatus  he  had,  almost  instinctively,  arranged 
in  such  a  manner,  that  a  Dutch  painter  might  have  imitated 
them  for  groups  in  his  still-life  scenes.  He  had  a  white  cap, 
which  he  wore  straight  up  like  a  turban  ;  and  the  sleeves  of 
his  night-gown  he  had  caused  to  be  cut  short,  in  the  mode 
of  the  Orientals.  By  way  of  reason  for  this,  he  pretended 
that  long,  wide  sleeves  encumbered  him  in  writing.  When, 
at  night,  the  boy  was  quite  alone,  and  no  longer  dreaded  any 
interruption,  he  usually  wore  a  silk  sash  tied  round  his  body : 
and  often,  it  is  said,  he  would  fix  in  his  girdle  a  sword,  which 
he  had  appropriated  from  an  old  armory,  and  thus  repeat 
and  declaim  his  tragic  parts  ;  nay,  in  the  same  trim  he  would 
kneel  down  and  say  his  evening  prayer. 

In  those  times,  how  happy  did  he  think  the  players,  whom 
he  saw  possessed  of  so  many  splendid  garments,  trappings, 
and  arms  ;  and  in  the  constant  practice  of  a  lofty  demeanor, 
the  spirit  of  which  seemed  to  hold  up  a  mirror  of  whatever, 
in  the  opinions,  relations,  and  passions  of  men,  was  stateli- 
est and  most  magnificent.  Of  a  piece  with  this,  thought 
Wilhelm,  is  also  the  player's  domestic  life,  —  a  series  of  dig- 
nified transactions  and  employments,  whereof  their  appear- 
ance on  the  stage  is  but  the  outmost  portion  ;  like  as  a  mass 
of  silver,  long  simmering  about  in  the  purif}'ing  furnace,  at 
length  gleams  with  a  bright  and  beautiful  tinge  in  the  eye'  of 
the  refiner,  and  shows  him,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  metal 
now  is  cleansed  of  all  foreign  mixture. 

Great,  accordingly,  was  his  surprise  at  first,  when  he  found 
himself  beside  his  mistress,  and  looked  down,  through  the 
cloud  that  environed  him,  on  tables,  stools,  and  floor.  The 
wrecks  of  a  transient,  light,  and  false  decoration  lay,  like 
the  glittering  coat  of  a  skinned  fish,  dispersed  in  wild  disor- 
der. The  implements  of  personal  cleanliness,  —  combs,  soap, 
towels,  —  with  the  traces  of  their  use,  were  not  concealed. 
Music,  portions  of  plays  and  pairs  of  shoes,  washes  and 
Italian  flowers,  pin-cushions,  hair-skewers,  rouge-pots,  and 
ribbons,  books  and  straw  hats,  —  no  article  despised  the 
neighborhood  of  another :  all  were  united  by  a  common  ele- 
ment, —  powder  and  dust.  Yet  as  Wilhelm  scarcely  noticed 
in  her  presence  aught  except  herself ;  nay,  as  all  that  had 


60  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

belonged  to  her,  that  she  had  touched,  was  dear  to  him,  — he 
came  at  last  to  feel,  in  this  chaotic  housekeeping,  a  charm 
which  the  proud  pomp  of  his  own  habitation  never  had  com- 
municated. When,  on  this  hand,  he  lifted  aside  her  bodice, 
to  get  at  the  harpsichord  ;  on  that,  threw  her  gown  upon  the 
bed,  that  he  might  find  a  seat ;  when  she  herself,  with  care- 
less freedom,  did  not  seek  to  hide  from  him  many  a  natural 
office,  which,  out  of  respect  for  the  presence  of  a  second 
person,  is  usually  concealed, — he  felt  as  if  by  all  this  he 
was  coming  nearer  to  her  every  moment,  as  if  the  communion 
betwixt  them  was  fastening  by  invisible  ties. 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  reconcile  with  his  previous  ideas  the 
behavior  of  the  other  players,  whom,  on  his  first  visits,  he 
often  met  with  in  her  house.  Ever  busied  in  being  idle,  they 
seemed  to  think  least  of  all  on  their  employment  and  object : 
the  poetic  worth  of  a  piece  they  were  never  heard  to  speak 
of,  or  to  judge  of,  right  or  wrong ;  their  continual  question 
was  simply,  How  much  will  it  bring?  Is  it  a  stock-piece? 
How  long  will  it  run?  How  often  think  you  it  may  be 
played?  and  other  inquiries  and  observations  of  the  same 
description.  Then  commonly  they  broke  out  against  the 
manager,  that  he  was  stinted  with  his  salaries,  and  especially 
unjust  to  this  one  or  to  that ;  then  against  the  public,  how 
seldom  it  recompensed  the  right  man  with  its  approval,  how 
the  German  theatre  was  daily  improving,  how  the  player  was 
ever  growing  more  honored,  and  never  could  be  honored 
enough.  Then  they  would  descant  largely  about  wine-gar- 
dens and  coffee-houses ;  how  much  debt  one  of  their  com- 
rades had  contracted,  and  must  suffer  a  deduction  from  his 
wages  on  account  of ;  about  the  disproportion  of  their 
weekly  salaries ;  about  the  cabals  of  some  rival  company : 
on  which  occasions,  they  would  pass  again  to  the  great  and 
merited  attention  which  the  public  now  bestowed  upon  them  ; 
not  forgetting  the  importance  of  the  theatre  to  the  improve- 
ment of  the  nation  and  the  world. 

All  this,  which  had  already  given  Wilhelm  many  a  restless 
hour,  came  again  into  his  memory,  as  he  walked  his  horse 
slowly  homewards,  and  contemplated  the  various  occurrences 
in  which  he  had  so  lately  been  engaged.  The  commotion 
produced  by  a  girl's  elopement,  not  only  in  a  decent  family, 
but  in  a  whole  town,  he  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes :  the 
scenes  upon  the  highway  and  in  the  Amtliaus,  the  views 
entertained  by  Melina,  and  whatever  else  he  had  witnessed, 
again  arose  before  him,  and  brought  his  keen,  forecasting 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  61 

mind  into  a  sort  of  anxious  disquietude ;  which  no  longer 
to  endure,  he  struck  the  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  hastened 
towards  home. 

By  this  expedient,  however,  he  but  ran  to  meet  new  vexa- 
tious. Werner,  his  friend  and  future  brother-in-law,  was 
waiting  for  him,  to  begin  a  serious,  important,  unexpected 
conversation. 

Werner  was  one  of  those  tried,  sedate  persons,  with  fixed 
principles  and  habits,  whom  we  usually  denominate  cold  char- 
acters, because  on  emergencies  they  do  not  burst  forth  quickly 
or  very  visibly.  Accordingly,  his  intercourse  with  Wilhelm 
was  a  perpetual  contest ;  which,  however,  only  served  to  knit 
their  mutual  affection  the  more  firmly  ;  for,  notwithstanding 
their  very  opposite  modes  of  thinking,  each  found  his  account 
in  communicating  with  the  other.  Werner  was  very  well  con- 
tented with  himself,  that  he  could  now  and  then  lay  a  bridle 
on  the  exalted  but  commonly  extravagant  spirit  of  his  friend ; 
and  Wilhelm  often  felt  a  glorious  triumph,  when  the  staid 
and  thinking  Werner  could  be  hurried  ou  with  him  in  warm 
ebullience.  Thus  each  exercised  himself  upon  the  other ; 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  see  each  other  daily  ;  and  you 
would  have  said,  their  eagerness  to  meet  and  talk  together 
had  even  been  augmented  by  the  inability  of  each  to  under- 
stand the  other.  At  bottom,  however,  being  both  good-hearted 
men,  they  were  both  travelling  together  towards  one  goal ; 
and  they  could  never  understand  how  it  was  that  neither  of 
the  two  could  bring  the  other  over  to  his  own  persuasion. 

For  some  time  Werner  had  observed  that  Wilhelm's  visits 
had  been  rarer ;  that  in  his  favorite  discussions  he  was  brief 
and  absent-minded  ;  that  he  no  longer  abandoned  himself  to 
the  vivid  depicting  of  singular  conceptions,  —  tokens  by  which, 
in  truth,  a  mind  getting  rest  and  contentment  in  the  presence 
of  a  friend  is  most  clearly  indicated.  The  considerate  and 
punctual  Werner  first  sought  for  the  root  of  the  evil  in  his 
own  conduct ;  till  some  rumors  of  the  neighborhood  set  him 
on  the  proper  trace,  and  some  unguarded  proceedings  on  the 
part  of  Wilhelm  brought  him  nearer  to  the  certainty.  He 
began  his  investigation,  and  erelong  discovered,  that  for 
some  time  Wilhelm  had  been  openly  visiting  an  actress,  had 
often  spoken  with  her  at  the  theatre,  and  accompanied  her 
home.  On  discovering  the  nightly  visits  of  his  friend,  Wer- 
ner's anxiety  increased  to  a  painful  extent:  for  he  heard 
that  Mariana  was  a  most  seductive  girl,  who  probably  was 
draining  the  youth  of  his  money ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 


62  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

she  herself  was  supported  by  another  and  a  very  worthless 
lover. 

Having  pushed  his  suspicions  as  near  certainty  as  possible, 
he  had  resolved  to  make  a  sharp  attack  on  Wilhelm  :  he  was 
now  in  full  readiness  with  all  his  preparations,  when  his  friend 
returned,  discontented  and  unsettled,  from  his  journey. 

That  very  evening  "Werner  laid  the  whole  of  what  he  knew 
before  him,  first  calmly,  then  with  the  emphatic  earnestness 
of  a  well-meaning  friendship.  He  left  no  point  of  the  sub- 
ject undiscussed,  and  made  Wilhelm  taste  abundance  of 
those  bitter  things  which  men  at  ease  are  accustomed,  with 
virtuous  spite,  to  dispense  so  liberally  to  men  in  love.  Yet, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  he  accomplished  little.  Wil- 
helm answei'ed  with  interior  commotion,  though  with  great 
confidence,  "  You  know  not  the  girl !  Appearances,  perhaps, 
are  not  to  her  advantage  ;  but  I  am  certain  of  her  faithful- 
ness and  virtue,  as  of  my  love." 

Werner  maintained  his  accusations,  and  offered  to  bring 
proofs  and  witnesses.  Wilhelm  waived  these  offers,  and 
parted  with  his  friend  out  of  humor  and  unhinged,  like  a 
man  in  whose  jaw  some  unskilful  ^dentist  has  been  seizing 
a  diseased,  yet  fast-rooted,  tooth,  and  tugging  at  it  harshly 
to  no  purpose. 

It  exceedingly  dissatisfied  Wilhelm  to  see  the  fair  image 
of  Mariana  overclouded  and  almost  deformed  in  his  soul, 
first  by  the  capricious  fancies  of  his  journey,  and  then  b}"  the 
unfriendliness  of  Werner.  He  adopted  the  surest  means  of 
restoring  it  to  complete  brilliancy  and  beauty,  by  setting  out 
at  night,  and  hastening  to  his  wonted  destination.  She  re- 
ceived him  with  extreme  joy :  on  entering  the  town,  he  had 
ridden  past  her  window ;  she  had  been  expecting  his  com- 
pany ;  and  it  is  easy  to  conceive  that  all  scruples  were  soon 
driven  from  his  heart.  Nay,  her  tenderness  again  opened 
up  the  whole  stores  of  his  confidence ;  and  he  told  her  how 
deeply  the  public,  how  deeply  his  friend,  had  sinned  against 
her. 

Much  lively  talking  led  them  at  length  to  speak  about  the 
earliest  period  of  their  acquaintance,  the  recollection  of  which 
forms  always  one  of  the  most  delightful  topics  between  two 
lovers.  The  first  steps  that  introduce  us  to  the  enchanted 
garden  of  love  are  so  full  of  pleasure,  the  first  prospects  so 
charming,  that  every  one  is  willing  to  recall  them  to  his 
memory.  Each  party  seeks  a  preference  above  the  other  ; 
each  has  loved  sooner,  more  devotedly ;  and  each,  in  this 
contest,  would  rather  be  conquered  than  conquer. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  63 

Wilhelm  repeated  to  his  mistress,  what  he  had  so  often 
told  her  before,  how  she  soon  abstracted  his  attention  from 
the  play,  and  fixed  it  on  herself ;  how  her  form,  her  acting, 
her  voice,  inspired  him ;  how  at  last  he  went  only  on  the 
nights  when  she  was  to  appear ;  how,  in  fine,  having  ventured 
behind  the  scenes,  he  had  often  stood  by  her  unheeded  ;  and 
he  spoke  with  rapture  of  the  happy  evening  when  he  found 
an  opportunity  to  do  her  some  civility,  and  lead  her  into  con- 
versation. 

Mariana,  on  the  other  hand,  would  not  allow  that  she  had 
failed  so  long  to  notice  him :  she  declared  that  she  had  seen 
him  in  the  public  walk,  and  for  proof  she  described  the  clothes 
which  he  wore  on  that  occasion  ;  she  affirmed  that  even  then 
he  pleased  her  before  all  others,  and  made  her  long  for  his 
acquaintance. 

How  gladly  did  Wilhelm  credit  all  this  !  How  gladly  did  he 
catch  at  the  persuasion,  that,  when  he  used  to  approach  her, 
she  had  felt  herself  drawn  towards  him  by  some  resistless 
influence ;  that  she  had  gone  with  him  between  the  side- 
scenes  on  purpose  to  see  him  more  closely,  and  get  acquainted 
with  him ;  and  that,  in  fine,  when  his  backwardness  and 
modesty  were  not  to  be  conquered,  she  had  herself  afforded 
him  an  opportunity,  and,  as  it  were,  compelled  him  to  hand 
her  a  glass  of  lemonade. 

In  this  affectionate  contest,  which  they  pursued  through 
all  the  little  circumstances  of  their  brief  romance,  the  hours 
passed  rapidly  away  ;  and  Wilhelm  left  his  mistress  with  his 
heart  at  peace,  and  firmly  determined  on  proceeding  forth- 
with to  the  execution  of  his  project. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  necessary  preparations  for  his  journey  his  father  and 
mother  had  attended  to :  some  little  matters,  that  were  yet 
wanting  to  his  equipage,  delayed  his  departure  for  a  few  days. 
Wilhelm  took  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  write  to  Mari- 
ana, meaning  thus  to  bring  to  a  decision  the  proposal,  about 
which  she  had  hitherto  avoided  speaking  with  him.  The 
letter  was  as  follows  :  — 

"Under  the  kind   veil  of  night,  which  has  often  over- 


64  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

shadowed  us  together,  I  sit  and  think,  and  write  to  thee : 
all  that  I  meditate  and  do  is  solely  on  thy  account.  O 
Mariana !  with  me,  the  happiest  of  men,  it  is  as  with  a 
bridegroom  who  stands  in  the  festive  chamber,  dreaming 
of  the  new  universe  that  is  to  be  fiufolded  to  him,  and  by 
means  of  him,  and,  while  the  holy  ceremonies  are  proceed- 
ing, transports  himself  in  longing  thought  before  the  myste- 
rious curtains,  from  which  the  loveliness  of  love  whispers 
out  to  him. 

"I  have  constrained  myself  not  to  see  thee  for  a  few 
days :  the  sacrifice  was  easy,  when  united  with  the  hope  of 
such  a  recompense,  of  being  always  with  thee,  of  remaining 
ever  thine!  Need  I  repeat  what  I  desire?  I  must!  for  it 
seems  as  if  yet  thou  hadst  never  understood  me. 

"  How  often,  in  the  low  tones  of  true  love,  which,  though 
wishing  to  gain  all,  dares  speak  but  little,  have  I  sought  in 
thy  heart  for  the  desire  of  a  perpetual  union.  Thou  hast 
understood  me,  doubtless ;  for  in  thy  own  heart  the  same 
wish  must  have  arisen :  thou  didst  comprehend  me,  in  that 
kiss,  in  the  intoxicating  peace  of  that  happy  evening.  Thy 
silence  testified  to  me  thy  modest  honor ;  and  how  did  it 
increase  my  love  !  Another  woman  would  have  had  recourse 
to  artifice,  that  she  might  ripen  by  superfluous  sunshine  the 
purpose  of  her  lover's  heart,  might  elicit  a  proposal,  and 
secure  a  firm  promise.  Mariana,  on  the  contrary,  drew 
back :  she  repelled  the  half-opened  confidence  of  him  she 
loved,  and  sought  to  conceal  her  approving  feelings  by 
apparent  indifference.  But  I  have  understood  thee  !  What 
a  miserable  creature  must  I  be,  if  I  did  not  by  these  tokens 
recognize  the  pure  and  generous  love  that  cares  not  for 
itself,  but  for  its  object !  Confide  in  me,  and  fear  nothing. 
We  belong  to  one  another ;  and  neither  of  us  leaves  aught 
or  forsakes  aught,  if  we  live  for  one  another. 

"  Take  it,  then,  this  hand  !  Solemnly  I  offer  this  un- 
necessary pledge !  All  the  joys  of  love  we  have  already 
felt,  but  there  is  a  new  blessedness  in  the  firm  thought  of 
duration.  Ask  not  how, — care  not.  Fate  takes  care  of 
love,  and  the  more  certainly  as  love  is  easy  to  provide  for. 

' '  My  heart  has  long  ago  forsaken  my  paternal  home  :  it 
is  with  thee,  as  my  spirit  hovers  on  the  stage.  O  my  dar- 
ling !  to  what  other  man  has  it  been  given  to  unite  all  his 
wishes,  as  it  is  to  me?  No  sleep  falls  upon  my  eyes :  like 
the  redness  of  an  everlasting  dawn,  thy  love  and  thy  happi- 
ness still  glow  around  me. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  65 

"  Scarcely  can  I  hold  myself  from  springing  up,  from 
rushing  forth  to  thee,  and  forcing  thy  consent,  and,  with 
the  first  light  of  to-morrow,  pressing  forward  into  the  world 
for  the  mark  I  aim  at.  But,  no !  I  will  restrain  myself ;  I 
will  not  act  like  a  thoughtless  fool,  will  do  nothing  rashly : 
my  plan  is  laid,  and  I  will  execute  it  calmly. 

"  I  am  acquainted  with  the  manager  Serlo :  my  journey 
leads  me  directly  to  the  place  where  he  is.  For  above  a 
year  he  has  frequently  been  wishing  that  his  people  had 
a  touch  of  my  vivacity,  and  my  delight  in  theatrical  affairs  : 
I  shall  doubtless  be  very  kindly  received.  Into  your  com- 
pany I  cannot  enter,  for  more  than  one  reason.  Serlo's 
theatre,  moi*eover,  is  at  such  a  distance  from  this,  that  I 
may  there  begin  my  undertaking  without  any  apprehension 
of  discovery.  With  him  I  shall  thus  at  once  find  a  tolerable 
maintenance :  I  shall  look  about  me  in  the  public,  get  ac- 
quainted with  the  company,  and  then  come  back  for  thee. 

"  Mariana,  thou  seest  what  I  can  force  myself  to  do,  that 
I  may  certainly  obtain  thee.  For  such  a  period  not  to  see 
thee  ;  for  such  -a  period  to  know  thee  in  the  wide  world  !  I 
dare  not  view  it  closely.  But  yet  if  I  recall  to  memory  thy 
love,  which  assures  me  of  all ;  if  thou  shalt  not  disdain  my 
prayer,  and  give  me,  ere  we  part,  thy  hand,  before  the 
priest,  —  I  may  then  depart  in  peace.  It  is  but  a  form  be- 
tween us,  yet  a  form  so  touching,  —  the  blessing  of  Heaven 
to  the  blessing  of  the  earth.  Close  by  thy  house,  in  the 
Ritterschaftliche  Chapel,  the  ceremony  will  be  soon  and 
secretly  performed. 

"  For  the  beginning  I  have  gold  enough ;  we  will  share 
it  between  us ;  it  will  suffice  for  both ;  and,  before  that  is 
finished,  Heaven  will  send  us  more. 

"  No,  my  darling,  I  am  not  downcast  about  the  issue. 
What  is  begun  with  so  much  cheerfulness  must  reach  a 
happy  end.  I  have  never  doubted  that  a  man  may  force 
his  way  through  the  world,  if  he  really  is  in  earnest  about 
it ;  and  I  feel  strength  enough  within  me  to  provide  a  liberal 
support  for  two,  and  many  more.  The  world,  we  are  often 
told,  is  unthankful :  I  have  never  yet  discovered  that  it  was 
unthankful,  if  one  knew  how,  in  the  proper  way,  to  do  it 
service.  My  whole  soul  burns  at  the  idea,  that  /  shall  at 
length  step  forth,  and  speak  to  the  hearts  of  men  something 
they  have  long  been  yearning  to  hear.  How  many  thousand 
times  has  a  feeling  of  disgust  passed  through  me,  alive  as  1 
am  to  the  nobleness  of  the  stage,  when  I  have  seen  the  poor- 


66  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

est  creatures  fancying  they  could  speak  a  word  of  power  to 
the  hearts  of  the  people !  The  tone  of  a  man's  voice  sing- 
ing treble  sounds  far  pleasanter  and  purer  to  my  ear :  it  is 
incredible  how  these  blockheads,  in  their  coarse  ineptitude, 
deform  things  beautiful  and  venerable. 

"  The  theatre  has  often  been  at  variance  with  the  pulpit: 
they  ought  not,  I  think,  to  quarrel.  How  much  is  it  to  be 
wished,  that  in  both  the  celebration  of  nature  and  of  God 
were  intrusted  to  none  but  men  of  noble  minds  !  These  are 
no  dreams,  my  darling !  As  I  have  felt  in  thy  heart  that 
thou  couldst  love,  I  seize  the  dazzling  thought,  and  say,  — 
no,  I  will  not  say,  but  I  will  hope  and  trust,  —  that  we  two 
shall  yet  appear  to  men  as  a  pair  of  chosen  spirits,  to  unlock 
their  hearts,  to  touch  the  recesses  of  their  nature,  and  pre- 
pare for  them  celestial  joys,  as  surely  as  the  joys  I  have 
tasted  with  thee  deserved  to  be  named  celestial,  'since  they 
drew  us  from  ourselves,  and  exalted  us  above  ourselves. 

"I  cannot  end.  I  have  already  said  too  much,  and 
know  not  whether  I  have  yet  said  all,  all  that  concerns  thy 
interests ;  for  to  express  the  agitations  of  the  vortex  that 
whirls  round  within  myself,  is  beyond  the  power  of  words. 

' '  Yet  take  this  sheet,  my  love !  I  have  again  read  it 
over :  I  observe  it  ought  to  have  begun  more  cautiously ;  but 
it  contains  in  it  all  that  thou  hast  need  to  know, — enough  to 
prepare  thee  for  the  hour  when  I  shall  return  with  the  light- 
ness of  love  to  thy  bosom.  I  seem  to  myself  like  a  prisoner 
that  is  secretly  filing  his  irons  asunder.  I  bid  good-night  to 
my  soundly  sleeping  parents.  Farewell,  my  beloved,  fare- 
well !  For  this  time  I  conclude  ;  my  eyelids  have  more  than 
once  dropped  together ;  it  is  now  deep  in  the  night." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IT  seemed  as  if  the  day  would  never  end,  while  Wilhelm, 
with  the  letter  beautifully  folded  in  his  pocket,  longed  to 
meet  with  Mariana.  The  darkness  had  scarcely  come  on, 
when,  contrary  to  custom,  he  glided  forth  to  her  house. 
His  plan  was,  to  announce  himself  for  the  night;  then  to 
quit  his  mistress  for  a  short  time,  leaving  the  letter  with  her 
ere  he  went  away ;  and,  returning  at  a  late  hour,  to  obtain 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  67 

her  reply,  her  consent,  or  to  force  it  from  her  by  the  power 
of  his  caresses.  He  flew  into  her  arms,  and  pressed  her  in 
rapture  to  his  bosom.  The  vehemence  of  his  emotions  pre- 
vented him  at  first  from  noticing,  that,  on  this  occasion,  she 
did  not  receive  him  with  her  wonted  heartiness ;  yet  she 
could  not  long  conceal  her  painful  situation,  but  imputed  it 
to  slight  indisposition.  She  complained  of  a  headache,  and 
would  not  by  any  means  consent  to  his  proposal  of  coming 
back  that  night.  Suspecting  nothing  wrong,  he  ceased  to 
urge  her,  but  felt  that  this  was  not  the  moment  for  deliver- 
ing his  letter.  He  retained  it,  therefore ;  and,  as  several  of 
her  movements  and  observations  courteously  compelled  him 
to  take  his  leave,  in  the  tumult  of  unsatiable  love  he  snatched 
up  one  of  her  neckerchiefs,  squeezed  it  into  his  pocket,  and 
forced  himself  away  from  her  lips  and  her  door.  He  re- 
turned home,  but  could  not  rest  there :  he  again  dressed 
himself,  and  went  out  into  the  open  air. 

After  walking  up  and  down  several  streets,  he  was  ac- 
costed by  a  stranger  inquiring  for  a  certain  inn.  Wilhelm 
offered  to  conduct  him  to  the  house.  In  the  way,  his  new 
acquaintance  asked  about  the  names  of  the  streets,  the 
owners  of  various  extensive  edifices,  then  about  some  police 
regulations  of  the  town ;  so  that,  by  the  time  they  reached 
the  door  of  the  inn,  they  had  fallen  into  quite  an  interesting 
conversation.  The  stranger  politely  compelled  his  guide  to 
enter,  and  drink  a  glass  of  punch  with  him.  Ere  long  he 
had  told  his  name  and  place  of  abode,  as  well  as  the  busi- 
ness that  had  brought  him  hither ;  and  he  seemed  to  expect 
a  like  confidence  from  Wilhelm.  Our  friend,  without  any 
hesitation,  mentioned  his  name,  and  the  place  where  he 
lived. 

"  Are  you  not  a  grandson  of  the  old  Meister,  who  pos- 
sessed that  beautiful  collection  of  pictures  and  statues?" 
inquired  the  stranger. 

"Yes,  I  am.  I  was  ten  years  old  when  my  grandfather 
died,  and  it  grieved  me  very  much  to  see  these  fine  things 
sold." 

"  Your  father  got  a  fine  sum  of  money  for  them." 

"  You  know  of  it,  then?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  :  I  saw  that  treasure  ere  it  left  your  house. 
Your  grandfather  was  not  merely  a  collector,  he  had  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  art.  In  his  younger  happy  years  he 
had  been  in  Italy,  and  had  brought  back  with  him  such 
treasures  as  could  not  now  be  got  for  any  price.  He  pos- 


68  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

sessed  some  exquisite  pictures  by  the  best  masters.  When 
you  looked  through  his  drawings,  you  would  scarcely  have 
believed  your  eyes.  Among  his  marbles  were  some  invalu- 
able fragments ;  his  series  of  bronzes  was  instructive  and 
well  chosen ;  he  had  also  collected  medals,  in  considerable 
quantity,  relating  to  history  and  art ;  his  few  gems  deserved 
the  greatest  praise.  In  addition  to  all  which,  the  whole  was 
tastefully  arranged ;  although  the  rooms  and  hall  of  the  old 
house  had  not  been  symmetrically  built." 

"  You  may  conceive,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  what  we  young 
ones  lost,  when  all  these  articles  were  taken  down  and  sent 
away.  It  was  the  first  mournful  period  of  my  life.  I  can- 
not tell  you  how  empty  the  chambers  looked  when  we  saw 
those  objects  vanish  one  by  one,  which  had  amused  us  from 
our  earliest  years,  and  which  we  considered  as  unalterable  as 
the  house,  or  the  town  itself." 

"  If  I  mistake  not,  your  father  put  the  capital  produced 
by  the  sale  into  some  neighbor's  stock,  with  whom  he  com- 
menced a  sort  of  partnership  in  trade." 

"  Quite  right ;  and  their  joint  speculations  have  prospered 
in  their  hands.  Within  the  last  twelve  years,  they  have 
greatly  increased  their  fortunes,  and  are  now  the  more  vehe- 
mently bent  on  gaining.  Old  Werner  also  has  a  son,  who 
suits  that  sort  of  occupation  much  better  than  I." 

"  I  am  sorry  the  place  should  have  lost  such  an  ornament 
as  your  grandfather's  cabinet  was  to  it.  I  saw  it  but  a  short 
time  prior  to  the  sale ;  and  I  may  say,  I  was  myself  the 
cause  of  its  being  then  disposed  of.  A  rich  nobleman,  a 
great  amateur,  but  one  who,  in  such  important  transactions, 
does  not  trust  to  his  own  solitary  judgment,  had  sent  me 
hither,  and  requested  my  advice.  For  six  days  I  examined 
the  collection :  on  the  seventh,  I  advised  my  friend  to  pay 
down  the  required  sum  without  delay.  You  were  then  a 
lively  boy,  often  running  about  me  :  you  explained  to  me  the 
subjects  of  the-  pictures,  and  in  general,  I  recollect,  could 
give  a  very  good  account  of  the  whole  cabinet." 

'*  I  remember  such  a  person,  but  I  should  not  have  recog- 
nized him  in  you." 

"  It  is  a  good  while  ago,  and  we  all  change  more  or  less. 
You  had,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  favorite  piece  among  them,  to 
which  you  were  ever  calling  my  attention." 

"Oh,  yes!  it  represented  the  history  of  that  king's  son 
dying  of  a  secret  love  for  his  father's  bride." 

'•  It  was  not,  certainly,  the  best  picture,  —  badly  grouped, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  69 

of  no  superiorit}-  in  coloring,  and  executed  altogether  with 
great  mannerism." 

"  This  I  did  not  understand,  and  do  not  yet :  it  is  the  sub- 
ject that  charms  me  in  a  picture,  not  the  art." 

"  Your  grandfather  seemed  to  have  thought  otherwise. 
The  greater  part  of  his  collection  consisted  of  excellent 
pieces ;  in  which,  represent  what  they  might,  one  constantly 
admired  the  talent  of  the  master.  This  picture  of  yours  had 
accordingly  been  hung  in  the  outermost  room,  —  a  proof  that 
he  valued  it  slightly." 

"  It  was  in  that  room  where  we  young  ones  used  to  play, 
and  where  the  piece  you  mention  made  on  me  a  deep  im- 
pression ;  which  not  even  your  criticism,  greatly  as  I  honor 
it,  could  obliterate,  if  we  stood  before  the  picture  at  this 
moment.  What  a  melancholy  object  is  a  youth  that  must 
shut  up  within  himself  the  sweet  impulse,  the  fairest  inher- 
itance which  nature  has  given  us,  and  conceal  in  his  own 
bosom  the  fire  which  should  warm  and  animate  himself  and 
others,  so  that  his  vitals  are  wasted  awa}'  by  unutterable 
pains  !  I  feel  a  pity  for  the  ill-fated  man  that  would  conse- 
crate himself  to  another,  when  the  heart  of  that  other  has 
already  found  a  worthy  object  of  true  and  pure  affection." 

"  Such  feelings  are,  however,  very  foreign  to  the  prin- 
ciples by  which  a  lover  of  art  examines  the  works  of  great 
painters ;  and  most  probably  you,  too,  had  the  cabinet  con- 
tinued in  your  family,  would  have  by  and  by  acquired  a 
relish  for  the  works  themselves,  and  have  learned  to  see  in 
the  performances  of  art  something  more  than  yourself  and 
your  individual  inclinations." 

"  In  truth,  the  sale  of  that  cabinet  grieved  me  very  much 
at  the  time  ;  and  often  since  I  have  thought  of  it  with  regret : 
but  when  I  consider  that  it  was  a  necessary  means  of  awak- 
ening a  taste  in  me,  of  developing  a  talent,  which  will  oper- 
ate far  more  powerfully  on  my  history  than  ever  those  lifeless 
pictures  could  have  done,  I  easily  content  myself,  and  honor 
destiny,  which  knows  how  to  bring  about  what  is  best  for 
me,  and  what  is  best  for  every  one." 

' '  It  gives  me  pain  to  hear  this  word  destiny  in  the  mouth 
of  a  young  person,  just  at  the  age  when  men  are  commonly 
accustomed  to  ascribe  their  own  violent  inclinations  to  the 
will  of  higher  natures." 

"You,  then,  do  not  believe  in  destiny?  No  power  that 
rules  over  us  and  directs  all  for  our  ultimate  advantage?  " 

"  The  question  is  not  now  of  my  belief,  nor  is  this   the 


70  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

place  to  explain  how  I  may  have  attempted  to  form  for  my- 
self some  not  impossible  conception  of  things  which  are. 
incomprehensible  to  all  of  us :  the  question  here  is,  What 
mode  of  viewing  them  will  profit  us  the  most?  The  fabric 
of  our  life  is  formed  of  necessity  and  chance  :  the  reason  of 
man  takes  its  station  between  them,  and  may  rule  them  both ; 
it  treats  the  necessary  as  the  groundwork  of  its  being ;  the 
accidental  it  can  direct  and  guide,  and  employ  for  its  own 
purposes  :  and  only  while  this  principle  of  reason  stands  firm 
and  inexpugnable,  does  man  deserve  to  be  named  the  god  of 
this  lower  world.  But  woe  to  him  who,  from  his  youth,  has 
used  himself  to  search  in  necessity  for  something  of  arbitrary 
will ;  to  ascribe  to  chance  a  sort  of  reason,  which  it  is  a 
matter  of  religion  to  obey.  Is  conduct  like  this  aught  else 
than  to  renounce  one's  understanding,  and  give  unrestricted 
scope  to  one's  inclinations?  We  think  it  is  a  kind  of  piety 
to  move  along  without  consideration ;  to  let  accidents  that 
please  us  determine  our  conduct ;  and,  finally,  to  bestow  on 
the  result  of  such  a  vacillating  life  the  name  of  providential 
guidance." 

"  Was  it  never  your  case  that  some  little  circumstance  in- 
duced you  to  strike  into  a  certain  path,  where  some  acci- 
dental occurrence  erelong  met  you,  and  a  series  of  unexpected 
incidents  at  length  brought  you  to  some  point  which  you 
yourself  had  scarcely  once  contemplated?  Should  not  les- 
sons of  this  kind  teach  us  obedience  to  destiny,  confidence  in 
some  such  guide  ?  ' ' 

"  With  opinions  like  these,  no  woman  could  maintain  her 
virtue,  no  man  keep  the  money  in  his  purse ;  for  occasions 
enough  are  occurring  to  get  rid  of  both.  He  alone  is  worthy 
of  respect,  who  knows  what  is  of  use  to  himself  and  others, 
and  who  labors  to  control  his  self-will.  Each  man  has  his 
own  fortune  in  his  hands  ;  as  the  artist  has  a  piece  of  rude 
matter,  which  he  is  to  fashion  to  a  certain  shape.  But  the 
art  of  living  rightly  is  like  all  arts :  the  capacity  alone  is 
born  with  us ;  it  must  be  learned,  and  practised  with  inces- 
sant care." 

These  discussions  our  two  speculators  carried  on  between 
them  to  considerable  length :  at  last  they  parted  without 
seeming  to  have  wrought  any  special  conviction  in  each 
other,  but  engaging  to  meet  at  an  appointed  place  next  daj*. 

Wilhelm  walked  up  and  down  the  streets  for  a  time :  he 
heard  a  sound  of  clarinets,  hunting-horns,  and  bassoons  ; 
it  swelled  his  bosom  with  delightful  feelings.  It  was  some 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  71 

travelling  showmen  that  produced  this  pleasant  music.  He 
spoke  with  them :  for  a  piece  of  coin  they  followed  him  to 
Mariana's  house.  The  space  in  front  of  the  door  was 
adorned  with  lofty  trees  ;  under  them  he  placed  his  artists  ; 
and,  himself  resting  on  a  bench  at  some  distance,  he  surren- 
dered his  mind  without  restraint  to  the  hovering  tones  which 
floated  round  him  in  the  cool  mellow  night.  Stretched  out 
beneath  the  kind  stars,  he  felt  his  existence  like  a  golden 
dream.  "She,  too,  hears  these  flutes,"  said  he  within  his 
heart:  "  she  feels  whose  remembrance,  whose  love  of  her,  it 
is  that  makes  the  night  full  of  music.  In  distance,  even,  we 
are  united  by  these  melodies,  as  in  every  separation,  by  the 
ethereal  accordance  of  love.  Ah  !  two  hearts  that  love  each 
other  are  as  two  magnetic  needles :  whatever  moves  the  one 
must  move  the  other  with  it ;  for  it  is  one  power  that  works 
in  both,  one  principle  that  pervades  them.  Can  I  in  her 
arms  conceive  the  possibility  of  parting  from  her?  And  yet 
I  am  soon  to  be  far  from  her,  to  seek  out  a  sanctuary  for 
our  love,  and  then  to  have  her  ever  with  me. 

"  How  often,  when  absent  from  her,  and  lost  in  thoughts 
about  her,  happening  to  touch  a  book,  a  piece  of  dress  or 
aught  else,  have  I  thought  I  felt  her  hand,  so  entirely  was  I 
invested  with  her  presence  !  And  to  recollect  those  moments 
which  shunned  the  light  of  day  and  the  eye  of  the  cold  spec- 
tator ;  which,  to  enjoy,  the  gods  might  determine  to  forsake 
the  painless  condition  of  their  pure  blessedness  !  To  recol- 
lect them  !  As  if  by  memory  we  could  renew  the  tumultuous 
thrilling  of  that  cup  of  joy,  which  encircles  our  senses  with 
celestial  bonds,  and  lifts  them  beyond  all  earthly  hinderances. 
And  her  form ' '  —  He  lost  himself  in  thoughts  of  her ;  his 
rest  passed  away  into  longing  ;  he  leaned  against  a  tree,  and 
cooled  his  warm  cheek  on  its  bark ;  and  the  winds  of  the 
night  wafted  speedily  aside  the  breath,  which  proceeded  in 
sighs  from  his  pure  and  impassioned  bosom.  He  groped  for 
the  neckerchief  he  had  taken  from  her ;  but  it  was  forgotten, 
it  lay  in  his  other  clothes.  His  frame  quivered  with  emotion. 

The  music  ceased,  and  he  felt  as  if  fallen  from  the  element 
in  which  his  thoughts  had  hitherto  been  soaring.  His  rest- 
lessness increased,  as  his  feelings  were  no  longer  nourished 
and  assuaged  by  the  melody.  He  sat  down  upon  her  thresh- 
old, and  felt  more  peace.  He  kissed  the  brass  knocker  of 
her  door :  he  kissed  the  threshold  over  which  her  feet  went 
out  and  in,  and  warmed  it  by  the  fire  of  his  breast.  He 
again  sat  still  for  a  moment,  and  figured  her  behind  her  cur- 


72  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

tains  in  the  white  night-gown,  with  the  red  ribbon  round  her 
head,  in  sweet  repose :  he  almost  fancied  that  he  was  him- 
self so  near  her,  she  must  needs  be  dreaming  of  him.  His 
thoughts  were  beautiful,  like  the  spirits  of  the  twilight ;  rest 
and  desire  alternated  within  him ;  love  ran  with  a  quivering 
hand,  in  a  thousand  moods,  over  all  the  chords  of  his  soul ; 
it  was  as  if  the  spheres  stood  mute  above  him,  suspending 
their  eternal  song  to  watch  the  low  melodies  of  his  heart. 

Had  he  then  had  about  him  the  master-key  with  which  he 
used  to  open  Mariana's  door,  he  could  not  have  restrained 
himself  from  penetrating  into  the  sanctuary  of  love.  Yet  he 
went  away  slowly ;  he  slanted,  half-dreaming,  in  beneath 
the  trees,  set  himself  for  home,  and  constantly  turned  round 
again  ;  at  last,  with  an  effort,  he  constrained  himself,  and 
actually  departed.  At  the  corner  of  the  street,  looking  back 
yet  once,  he  imagined  that  he  saw  Mariana's  door  open,  and 
a  dark  figure  issue  from  it.  He  was  too  distant  for  seeing 
clearly  ;  and,  before  he  could  exert  himself  and  look  sharply, 
the  appearance  was  already  lost  in  the  night ;  yet  afar  off  he 
thought  he  saw  it  again  gliding  past  a  white  house.  He  stood, 
and  strained  his  eyes ;  but,  ere  he  could  arouse  himself  and 
follow  the  phantom,  it  had  vanished.  Whither  should  he 
pursue  it?  What  street  had  the  man  taken,  if  it  were  a 
man  ? 

A  nightly  traveller,  when  at  some  turn  of  his  path  he  has 
seen  the  country  for  an  instant  illuminated  by  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, will,  with  dazzled  eyes,  next  moment,  seek  in  vain  for 
the  preceding  forms  and  the  connection  of  hi;  road  ;  so  was 
it  in  the  eyes  and  the  heart  of  Wilhelm.  And  as  a  spirit  of 
midnight,  which  awakens  unutterable  terror,  is,  in  the  suc- 
ceeding moments  of  composure,  regarded  as  a  child  of  imagi- 
nation, and  the  fearful  vision  leaves  doubts  without*  end 
behind  it  in  the  soul ;  so  likewise  was  Wilhelm  in  extreme 
disquietude,  as,  leaning  on  the  corner-stone  of  the  street, 
he  heeded  not  the  clear  gray  of  the  morning,  and  the  crowing 
of  the  cocks ;  till  the  early  trades  began  to  stir,  and  drove 
him  home. 

On  his  way,  he  had  almost  effaced  the  unexpected  delusion 
from  his  mind  by  the  most  sufficient  reasons  ;  yet  the  fine  har- 
monious feelings  of  the  night,  on  which  he  now  looked  back 
as  if  they  too  had  been  a  vision,  were  also  gone.  To  soothe 
his  heart,  and  put  the  last  seal  on  his  returning  belief,  he 
took  the  neckerchief  from  the  pocket  of  the  dress  he  had 
been  last  wearing.  The  rustling  of  a  letter  which  fell  out 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  73 

of  it  took   the  kerchief  away  from  his  lips :  he  lifted  and 
read,  — 

"As  I  love  thee,  little  fool,  what  ailed  thee  last  night? 
This  evening  I  will  come  again.  I  can  easily  suppose  that 
thou  art  sick  of  staying  here  so  long :  but  have  patience  ;  at 
the  fair  I  will  return  for  thee.  And  observe,  never  more 
put  me  on  that  abominable  black-green-brown  jacket :  thou 
lookest  in  it  like  the  witch  of  Endor.  Did  I  not  send  the 
white  night-gown,  that  I  might  have  a  snowy  little  lambkin 
in  my  arms  ?  Send  thy  letters  always  by  the  ancient  sibyl : 
the  Devil  himself  has  selected  her  as  Iris." 


74  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK    H. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHOEVER  strives  in  our  sight  with  vehement  force  to  reach 
an  object,  be  it  one  that  we  praise  or  that  we  blame,  may 
count  on  exciting  an  interest  in  our  minds ;  but,  when  once 
the  matter  is  decided,  we  turn  our  eyes  away  from  him  :  what- 
ever once  lies  finished  and  done,  can  no  longer  at  all  fix  our 
attention,  especially  if  we  at  first  prophesied  an  evil  issue  to 
the  undertaking. 

Therefore  we  shall  not  try  to  entertain  our  readers  with 
any  circumstantial  account  of  the  grief  and  desperation  into 
which  our  ill-fated  friend  was  cast,  when  he  saw  his  hopes  so 
unexpectedly  and  instantaneously  ruined.  On  the  contrary, 
we  shall  even  pass  over  several  years,  and  again  take  up  our 
friend,  where  we  hope  to  find  him  in  some  sort  of  activity 
and  comfort.  First,  however,  we  must  shortly  set  forth  a 
few  matters  necessary  for  maintaining  the  connection  of  our 
narrative. 

The  pestilence,  or  a  malignant  fever,  rages  with  more 
fierceness,  and  speedier  effect,  if  the  frame  which  ii  attacks 
was  before  healthy  and  full  of  vigor ;  and  in  like  manner, 
when  a  luckless,  unlooked-for  fate  overtook  the  wretched 
Wilhelm,  his  whole  being  in  a  moment  was  laid  waste.  As 
when  by  chance,  in  the  preparation  of  some  artificial  fire- 
work, any  part  of  the  composition  kindles  before  its  time ; 
and  the  skilfully  bored  and  loaded  barrels,  which,  arranged, 
and  burning  after  a  settled  plan,  would  have  painted  in  the 
air  a  magnificently  varying  series  of  flaming  images,  now 
hissing  and  roaring,  promiscuously  explode  with  a  confused 
and  dangerous  crash,  —  so,  in  our  hero's  case,  did  happiness 
and  hope,  pleasure  and  joys,  realities  and  dreams,  clash  to- 
gether with  destructive  tumult,  all  at  once  in  his  bosom.  In 
such  desolate  moments,  the  friend  that  has  hastened  to  de- 
liverance stands  fixed  in  astonishment;  and  for  him  who 
suffers,  it  is  a  benefit  that  sense  forsakes  him. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  75 

Days  of  pain,  unmixed,  ever-returning,  and  purposely  re- 
newed, succeeded  next :  still,  even  these  are  to  be  regarded 
as  a  grace  from  nature.  In  such  hours  Wilhelm  had  not  yet 
quite  lost  his  mistress :  his  pains  were  indefatigable  strug- 
gles, still  to  hold  fast  the  happiness  that  was  gliding  from 
his  soul ;  again  to  luxuriate  in  thought  on  the  possibility  of 
it ;  to  procure  a  brief  after-life  for  his  joys  that  had  departed 
forever.  Thus  one  may  look  upon  a  body  as  not  utterly 
dead  while  the  putrefaction  lasts ;  while  the  forces  that  in 
vain  seek  to  work  by  their  old  appointment,  still  labor  in  dis- 
severing the  particles  of  that  frame  which  they  once  ani- 
mated ;  and  not  till  all  is  disunited  and  inert,  till  we  see  the 
whole  mouldered  down  into  indifferent  dust,  —  not  till  then 
does  there  rise  in  us  the  mournful,  vacant  sentiment  of  death, 
—  death,  not  to  be  recalled,  save  by  the  breath  of  Him  that 
lives  forever. 

In  a  temper  so  new,  so  entire,  so  full  of  love,  there  was 
much  to  tear  asunder,  to  desolate,  to  kill ;  and  even  the 
healing  force  of  youth  gave  nourishment  and  violence  to  the 
power  of  sorrow.  The  stroke  had  extended  to  the  roots  of 
his  whole  existence.  Werner,  by  necessity  his  confidant, 
attacked  the  hated  passion  itself  with  fire  and  sword,  reso- 
lutely zealous  to  search  into  the  monster's  inmost  life.  The 
opportunity  was  lucky,  the  evidence  at  hand,  and  many  were 
the  histories  and  narratives  with  which  he  backed  it  out. 
"With  such  unrelenting  vehemence  did  he  make  his  advances, 
leaving  his  friend  not  even  the  respite  of  the  smallest  mo- 
mentary self-deception,  but  treading  down  every  lurking- 
place  in  which  he  might  have  saved  himself  from  desperation, 
that  Nature,  not  inclined  to  let  her  darling  perish  utterly, 
visited  him  with  sickness,  to  make  an  outlet  for  him  on  the 
other  side. 

A  violent  fever,  with  its  train  of  consequences,  medicines, 
overstraining,  and  exhaustion,  besides  the  unwearied  atten- 
tions of  his  family,  the  love  of  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
which  first  becomes  truly  sensible  in  times  of  distress  and 
want,  were  so  many  fresh  occupations  to  his  mind,  and  thus 
formed  a  kind  of  painful  entertainment.  It  was  not  till  he 
grew  better,  in  other  words,  till  his  strength  was  exhausted, 
that  Wilhelm  first  looked  down  with  horror  into  the  gloomy 
abyss  of  a  barren  misery,  as  one  looks  down  into  the  hollow 
crater  of  an  extinguished  volcano. 

He  now  bitterly  reproached  himself,  that,  after  so  great  a 
loss,  he  could  yet  enjoy  one  painless,  restful,  indifferent  mo- 


76  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

meiit.     He  despised  his  own  heart,  and  longed  for  the  balm 
of  tears  and  lamentation. 

To  awaken  these  again  within  him,  he  would  recall  to 
memory  the  scenes  of  his  by-gone  happiness.  He  would 
paint  them  to  his  fancy  in  the  liveliest  colors,  transport  him- 
self again  into  the  days  when  they  were  real ;  and  when 
standing  on  the  highest  elevation  he  could  reach,  when  the 
sunshine  of  past  times  again  seemed  to  animate  his  limbs  and 
heave  his  bosom,  he  would  look  back  into  the  fearful  chasm, 
would  feast  his  eye  on  its  dismembering  depth,  then  plunge 
down  into  its  horrors,  and  thus  force  from  nature  the  bitter- 
est pains.  With  such  repeated  cruelty  did  he  tear  himself  in 
pieces ;  for  youth,  which  is  so  rich  in  undeveloped  force, 
knows  not  what  it  squanders  when,  to  the  anguish  which  a 
loss  occasions,  it  adds  so  many  sorrows  of  its  own  production, 
as  if  it  meant  then  first  to  give  the  right  value  to  what  is 
gone  forever.  He  likewise  felt  so  convinced  that  his  present 
loss  was  the  sole,  the  first,  the  last,  he  ever  could  experience 
in  life,  that  he  turned  away  from  every  consolation  which 
aimed  at  showing  that  his  sorrows  might  be  less  than  endless. 


CHATTER  H.  -^  J 

ACCUSTOMED  in  this  way  to  torment  himself,  he  now  also 
attacked  what  still  remained  to  him  ;  what  next  to  love,  and 
along  with  it,  had  given  him  the  highest  joys  and  hopes,  — 
his  talent  as  a  poet  and  actor,  with  spiteful  criticisms  on 
every  side.  In  his  labors  he  could  see  nothing  but  a  shallow 
imitation  of  prescribed  forms,  without  intrinsic  worth:  he 
looked  on  them  as  stiff  school-exercises,  destitute  of  any 
spark  of  nature,  truth,  or  inspiration.  His  poems  now  ap- 
peared nothing  more  than  a  monotonous  arrangement  of  syl- 
lables, in  which  the  most  trite  emotions  and  thoughts  were 
dragged  along  and  kept  together  by  a  miserable  rhyme. 
And  thus  did  he  also  deprive  himself  of  every  expectation, 
every  pleasure,  which  on  this  quarter  at  least  might  have 
aided  the  recovery  of  his  peace. 

With  his  theatric  talent  it  fared  no  better.  He  blamed 
himself  for  not  having  sooner  detected  the  vanity  on  which 
alone  this  pretension  had  been  founded.  His  figure,  his 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  77 

gait,  his  movements,  his  mode  of  declamation,  were  sever- 
ally taxed :  he  decisively  renounced  every  species  of  advan- 
tage or  merit  that  might  have  raised  him  above  the  common 
run  of  men,  and  so  doing  he  increased  his  mute  despair  to 
the  highest  pitch.  For,  if  it  is  hard  to  give  up  a  woman's 
love,  no  less  painful  is  the  task  to  part  from  the  fellowship 
of  the  Muses,  to  declare  ourselves  forever  undeserving  to  be 
of  their  community,  and  to  forego  the  fairest  and  most  im- 
mediate kind  of  approbation,  what  is  openly  bestowed  on 
our  person,  our  voice,  and  our  demeanor. 

Thus,  then,  our  friend  had  long  ago  entirety  resigned  him- 
self, and  set  about  devoting  his  powers  with  the  greatest  zeal 
to  the  business  of  trade.  To  the  surprise  of  friends,  and  to 
the  great  contentment  of  his  father,  no  one  was  now  more 
diligent  than  Wilhelm,  on  the  exchange  or  in  the  counting- 
house,  in  the  sale-room  or  the  warehouses  :  correspondence 
and  calculations,  all  that  was  intrusted  to  his  charge,  he 
attended  to  and  managed  with  the  greatest  diligence  and 
zeal.  Not,  in  truth,  with  that  warm  diligence  which  to  the 
busy  man  is  its  own  reward,  when  he  follows  with  constancy 
and  order  the  employment  he  was  born  for,  but  with  the 
silent  diligence  of  duty,  which  has  the  best  principle  for  its 
foundation  ;  which  is  nourished  by  conviction,  and  rewarded 
by  conscience ;  yet  which  oft,  even  when  the  clearest  testi- 
mony of  our  minds  is  crowning  it  with  approbation,  can 
scarcely  repress  a  struggling  sigh. 

In  this  manner  he  lived  for  a  time,  assiduously  busied, 
and  at  last  persuaded  that  his  former  hard  trial  had  been 
ordained  by  fate  for  the  best.  He  felt  glad  at  having  thus 
been  timefully,  though  somewhat  harshly,  warned  about  the 
proper  path  of  life  ;  while  many  are  constrained  to  expiate 
more  heavily,  and  at  a  later  age,  the  misconceptions  into 
which  their  youthful  inexperience  has  betrayed  them.  For 
each  man  commonly  defends  himself  as  long  as  possible  from 
casting  out  the  idols  which  he  worships  in  his  soul,  from 
acknowledging  a  master  error,  and  admitting  any  truth  which 
brings  him  to  despair. 

Determined  as  he  was  to  abandon  his  dearest  projects, 
some  time  was  still  necessary  to  convince  him  fully  of  his 
misfortune.  At  last,  however,  he  had  so  completely  suc- 
ceeded, by  irrefragable  reasons,  in  annihilating  every  hope 
of  love,  or  poetical  performance,  or  stage  representation, 
that  he  took  courage  to  obliterate  entirely  all  the  traces  of 
his  folly,  —  all  that  could  in  any  way  remind  him  of  it.  For 


78  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

this  purpose  he  had  lit  a  fire  in  his  chamber,  one  cool  even- 
ing, and  brought  out  a  little  chest  of  relics,  among  which 
were  multitudes  of  small  articles,  that,  in  memorable  mo- 
ments, he  had  begged  or  stolen  from  Mariana.  Each  with- 
ered flower  brought  to  his  mind  the  time  when  it  bloomed 
fresh  among  her  hair ;  each  little  note  the  happy  hour  to 
which  it  had  invited  him  ;  each  ribbon-knot  the  lovely  resting- 
place  of  his  head,  — her  beautiful  bosom.  So  occupied,  was 
it  not  to  be  expected  that  each  emotion  which  he  thought 
long  since  quite  dead,  should  again  begin  to  move  ?  Was  it 
not  to  be  expected  that  the  passion  over  which,  when  sepa- 
rated from  his  mistress,  he  had  gained  the  victory,  should,  in 
the  presence  of  these  memorials,  again  gather  strength?  We 
first  observe  how  dreary  and  disagreeable  an  overclouded  day 
is  when  a  single  sunbeam  pierces  through,  and  offers  to  us 
the  exhilarating  splendor  of  a  serene  hour. 

Accordingly,  it  was  not  without  disturbance  that  he  saw 
these  relics,  long  preserved  as  sacred,  fade  away  from  before 
him  in  smoke  and  flame.  Sometimes  he  shuddered  and  hesi- 
tated in  his  task  :  he  had  still  a  pearl  necklace  and  a  flowered 
neckerchief  in  his  hands,  when  he  resolved  to  quicken  the 
decaying  fire  with  the  poetical  attempts  of  his  youth. 

Till  now  he  had  carefully  laid  up  whatever  had  proceeded 
from  his  pen,  since  the  earliest  unfolding  of  his  mind.  His 
papers  yet  lay  tied  up  in  a  bundle  at  the  bottom  of  the  chest, 
where  he  had  packed  them  ;  purposing  to  take  them  with  him 
in  his  elopement.  How  altogether  different  were  his  feelings 
now  in  opening  them,  and  his  feelings  then  in  tying  them 
together ! 

If  we  happen,  under  certain  circumstances,  to  have  writ- 
ten and  sealed  and  despatched  a  letter  to  a  friend,  which, 
however,  does  not  find  him,  but  is  brought  back  to  us,  and 
we  open  it  at  the  distance  of  some  considerable  time,  a 
singular  emotion  is  produced  in  us,  on  breaking  up  our  own 
seal,  and  conversing  with  our  altered  self  as  with  a  third 
person.  A  similar  and  deep  feeling  seized  our  friend,  as  he 
now  opened  this  packet,  and  threw  the  scattered  leaves  into 
the  fire ;  which  was  flaming  fiercely  with  its  offerings,  when 
Werner  entered,  expressed  his  wonder  at  the  blaze,  and 
asked  what  was  the  matter. 

"  I  am  now  giving  proof,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  I  am 
serious  in  abandoning  a  trade  for  which  I  was  not  born." 
And,  with  these  words,  he  cast  the  second  packet  likewise 
into  the  fire.  Werner  made  a  motion  to  prevent  him,  but 
the  business  was  already  done. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  79 

"  I  cannot  see  how  thou  shouldst  bring  thyself  to  such 
extremities,"  said  Werner.  "  Why  must  these  labors,  be- 
cause they  are  not  excellent,  be  annihilated?" 

"  Because  either  a  poem  is  excellent,  or  it  should  not  be 
allowed  to  exist.  Because  each  man  who  has  no  gift  for 
producing  first-rate  works,  should  entirely  abstain  from  the 
pursuit  of  art,  and  seriously  guard  himself  against  every 
deception  on  that  'j.ibject.  For  it  must  be  owned,  that  in  all 
men  there  is  a  certain  vague  desire  to  imitate  whatever  is 
presented  to  them  ;  and  such  desires  do  not  prove  at  all 
that  we  possess  within  us  the  force  necessary  for  succeeding 
in  these  enterprises.  Look  at  boys,  how,  whenever  any  rope- 
dancers  have  been  visiting  the  town,  they  go  scrambling  up 
and  down,  and  balancing  on  all  the  planks  and  beams  within 
their  reach,  till  some  other  charm  calls  them  off  to  other 
sports,  for  which  perhaps  they  are  as  little  suited.  Hast 
thou  never  marked  it  in  the  circle  of  our  friends?  No 
sooner  does  a  dilettante  introduce  himself  to  notice,  than 
numbers  of  them  set  themselves  to  learn  playing  on  his 
instrument.  How  many  wander  back  and  forward  on  this 
bootless  way !  Happy  they  who  soon  detect  the  chasm 
that  lies  between  their  wishes  and  their  powers  !  " 

Werner  contradicted  this  opinion  :  their  discussion  became 
lively,  and  Wilhelm  could  not  without  emotion  employ 
against  his  friend  the  arguments  with  which  he  had  already 
so  frequently  tormented  himself.  Werner  maintained  that 
it  was  not  reasonable  wholly  to  relinquish  a  pursuit  for 
which  a  man  had  some  propensity  and  talent,  merely  because 
he  never  could  succeed  in  it  to  full  perfection.  There  were 
many  vacant  hours,  he  said,  which  might  be  filled  up  b}-  it ; 
and  then  by  and  by  some  result  might  be  produced  which 
would  yield  a  certain  satisfaction  to  himself  and  others. 

Wilhelm,  who  in  this  matter  was  of  quite  a  different  opin- 
ion, here  interrupted  him,  and  said  with  great  vivacity,  — 

"  How  immensely,  dear  friend,  do  you  err  in  believing 
that  a  work,  the  first  presentation  of  which  is  to  fill  the 
whole  soul,  can  be  produced  in  broken  hours  scraped  to- 
gether from  other  extraneous  employment.  No :  the  poet 
must  live  wholly  for  himself,  wholly  in  the  objects  that 
delight  him.  Heaven  has  furnished  him  internally  with 
precious  gifts  ;  he  carries  in  his  bosom  a  treasure  that  is 
ever  of  itself  increasing ;  he  must  also  live  with  this  treas- 
ure, undisturbed  from  without,  in  that  still  blessedness 
which  the  rich  seek  in  vain  to  purchase  with  their  accumu- 


80  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

lated  stores.  Look  at  men,  how  they  struggle  after  happi- 
ness and  satisfaction  !  Their  wishes,  their  toil,  their  gold, 
are  ever  hunting  restlessly,  —  and  after  what?  After  that 
which  the  poet  has  received  from  nature,  — the  right  enjoy- 
ment of  the  world,  the  feeling  of  himself  in  others,  the  har- 
monious conjunction  of  many  things  that  will  seldom  exist 
together. 

"  What  is  it  that  keeps  men  in  continual  discontent  and 
agitation?  It  is,  that  they  cannot  make  realities  correspond 
with  their  conceptions,  that  enjoyment  steals  away  from 
among  their  hands,  that  the  wished-for  comes  too  late,  and 
nothing  reached  and  acquired  produces  on  the  heart  the 
effect  which  their  longing  for  it  at  a  distance  led  them  to 
anticipate.  Now,  fate  has  exalted  the  poet  above  all  this, 
as  if  he  were  a  god.  He  views  the  conflicting  tumult  of  the 
passions  ;  sees  families  and  kingdoms  raging  in  aimless  com- 
motion ;  sees  those  inexplicable  enigmas  of  misunderstand- 
ing, which  frequently  a  single  monosyllable  would  suffice  to 
explain,  occasioning  convulsions  unutterably  baleful.  He 
has  a  fellow-feeling  of  the  mournful  and  the  joyful  in  the  fate 
of  all  human  beings.  When  the  man  Of  the  world  is  devot- 
ing his  days  to  wasting  melancholy,  for  some  deep  disap- 
pointment, or,  in  the  ebullience  of  joy,  is  going  out  to  meet 
his  happy  destiny,  the  lightly  moved  and  all-conceiving 
spirit  of  the  poet  steps  forth,  like  the  sun  from  night  to 
day,  and  with  soft  transitions  tunes  his  harp  to  joy  or  woe. 
From  his  heart,  its  native  soil,  springs  up  the  lovely  flower 
of  wisdom ;  and  if  others,  while  waking,  dream,  and  are 
pained  with  fantastic  delusions  from  their  every  sense,  he 
passes  the  dream  of  life  like  one  awake ;  and  the  strangest 
of  incidents  is  to  him  a  part  both  of  the  past  and  of  the 
future.  And  thus  the  poet  is  at  once  a  teacher,  a  prophet, 
a  friend  of  gods  and  men.  What !  thou  wouldst  have  him 
descend  from  his  height  to  some  paltry  occupation !  He 
who  is  fashioned  like  the  bird  to  hover  round  the  world,  to 
nestle  on  the  lofty  summits,  to  feed  on  buds  and  fruits, 
exchanging  gayly  one  bough  for  another,  he  ought  also  to 
work  at  the  plough  like  an  ox ;  like  a  dog  to  train  himself 
to  the  harness  and  draught ;  or  perhaps,  tied  up  in  a  chain, 
to  guard  a  farmyard  by  his  barking !  " 

Werner,  it  may  well  be  supposed,  had  listened  with  the 
greatest  surprise.  "All  true,"  he  rejoined,  "if  men  were 
I'-iit  made  like  birds,  and,  though  they  neither  spun  nor 
heaved,  could  yet  spend  peaceful  days  in  perpetual  enjoy- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  81 

ment ;  if,  at  the  approach  of  winter,  the}'  could  us  easily 
betake  themselves  to  distant  regions,  could  retire  before 
scarcity,  and  fortify  themselves  against  frost." 

"Poets  have  lived  so,"  exclaimed  Wilhelm,  "in  times 
•when  true  nobleness  was  better  reverenced ;  and  so  should 
they  ever  live !  Sufficiently  provided  for  within,  they  had 
need  of  little  from  without :  the  gift  of  communicating  lofty 
emotions  and  glorious  images  to  men,  in  melodies  and  words 
that  charmed  the  ear,  and  fixed  themselves  inseparably  on 
whatever  objects  they  referred  to,  of  old  enraptured  the 
world,  and  served  the  gifted  as  a  rich  inheritance.  At  the 
courts  of  kings,  at  the  tables  of  the  great,  beneath  the  win- 
dows of  the  fair,  the  sound  of  them  was  heard ;  while  the 
ear  and  the  soul  were  shut  for  all  beside :  and  men  felt  as 
we  do  when  delight  comes  over  us,  and  we  stop  with  rapture 
if,  among  the  dingles  we  are  crossing,  the  voice  of  the 
nightingale  starts  out  touching  and  strong.  They  found  a 
home  in  every  habitation  of  the  world,  and  the  lowliness  of 
their  condition  but  exalted  them  the  more.  The  hero  listened 
to  their  songs,  and  the  conqueror  of  the  earth  did  reverence 
to  a  poet ;  for  he  felt,  that,  without  poets,  his  own  wild  and 
vast  existence  would  pass  away  like  a  whirlwind,  and  be  for- 
gotten forever.  The  lover  wished  that  he  could  feel  his  long- 
ings and  his  joys  so  variedly  and  so  harmoniously  as  the  poet's 
inspired  lips  had  skill  to  show  them  forth ;  and  even  the  rich 
man  could  not  of  himself  discern  such  costliness  in  his  idol 
grandeurs,  as  when  they  were  presented  to  him  shining  in  the 
splendor  of  the  poet's  spirit,  sensible  to  all  worth,  and  exalt- 
ing all.  Nay,  if  thou  wilt  have  it,  who  but  the  poet  was  it 
that  first  formed  gods  for  us,  that  exalted  us  to  them,  and 
brought  them  down  to  us?  " 

"  My  friend,"  said  Werner,  after  some  reflection,  "  it  has 
often  grieved  me  that  thou  shouldst  strive  by  force  to  banish 
from  thy  soul  what  thou  feelest  so  vividly.  I  am  greatly 
mistaken,  if  it  were  not  better  for  thee  in  some  degree  to 
yield  to  these  propensities,  than  to  waste  thyself  by  the  con- 
tradictions of  so  hard  a  piece  of  self-denial,  and  with  the 
enjoyment  of  this  one  guiltless  pleasure  to  renounce  the  en- 
joyment of  all  others." 

"  Shall  I  confess  it,"  said  the  other,  "  and  wilt  not  thou 
laugh  at  me  if  I  acknowledge,  that  these  ideas  pursue  me 
constantly ;  that,  let  me  flee  from  them  as  I  will,  when  I  ex- 
plore my  heart,  I  find  all  my  early  wishes  yet  rooted  there, 
firml}-,  —  nay,  more  firmly  than  ever  ?  Yet  what  now  remains 


82  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

for  me,  wretched  as  I  am?  Ah!  whoever  should  have  told 
me  that  the  arms  of  my  spirit,  with  which  I  was  grasping  at 
infinity,  and  hoping  with  certainty  to  clasp  something  great 
and  glorious,  would  so  soon  be  crushed  and  smote  in  pieces,  — 
whoever  should  have  told  me  this,  would  have  brought  me  to 
despair.  And  yet  now,  when  judgment  has  been  passed 
against  me  ;  now,  when  she,  that  was  to  be  as  my  divinity  to 
guide  me  to  my  wishes,  is  gone  forever,  —  what  remains  but 
that  I  yield  up  my  soul  to  the  bitterest  woes?  O  my 
brother !  I  will  not  deceive  you :  in  my  secret  purposes,  she 
was  as  the  hook  on  which  the  ladder  of  my  hopes  was  fixed. 
See !  With  daring  aim  the  mountain  adventurer  hovers  in 
the  air :  the  iron  breaks,  and  he  lies  broken  and  dismembered 
on  the  earth.  No,  there  is  no  hope,  no  comfort  for  me 
more!  I  will  not,"  he  cried  out,  springing  to  his  feet, 
"  leave  a  single  fragment  of  these  wretched  papers  from  the 
flames."  He  then  seized  one  or  two  packets  of  them,  tore 
them  up,  and  threw  them  into  the  fire.  Werner  endeavored 
to  restrain  him,  but  in  vain.  "Let  me  alone!  "  cried  Wil- 
helm :  ' '  what  should  these  miserable  leaves  do  here  ?  To 
me  they  give  neither  pleasant  recollections  nor  pleasant 
hopes.  Shall  they  remain  behind  to  vex  me  to  the  end  of 
my  life  ?  Shall  they  perhaps  one  day  serve  the  world  for  a 
jest,  instead  of  awakening  sjmipathy  and  horror?  Woe  to 
me !  my  doom  is  woe  !  Now  I  comprehend  the  wailings  of 
the  poets,  of  the  wretched  whom  necessity  has  rendered 
wise.  How  long  did  I  look  upon  myself  as  invulnerable 
and  invincible  ;  and,  alas  !  I  am  now  made  to  see  that  a  deep 
and  early  sorrow  can  never  heal,  can  never  pass  away :  I 
feel  that  I  shall  take  it  with  me  to  my  grave.  No !  not  a 
day  of  my  life  shall  escape  this  anguish,  which  at  last  must 
crush  me  down  ;  and  her  image  too  shall  stay  with  me,  shall 
live  and  die  with  me,  the  image  of  the  worthless,  —  O  my 
friend  !  if  I  must  speak  the  feeling  of  my  heart,  —  the  per- 
haps not  altogether  worthless  !  Her  situation,  the  crooked- 
ness of  her  destiny,  have  a  thousand  times  excused  her  in 
my  mind.  I  have  been  too  cruel ;  you  steeled  me  in  your 
own  cold  unrelenting  harshness ;  you  held  my  wavering 
senses  captive,  and  hindered  me  from  doing  for  myself  and 
her  what  I  owed  to  both.  Who  knows  to  what  a  state  I 
may  have  brought  her !  my  conscience  by  degrees  presents 
to  me,  in  all  its  heaviness,  in  what  helplessness,  in  what 
despair,  I  may  have  left  her.  Was  it  not  possible  that  she 
might  clear  herself  ?  Was  it  not  possible  ?  How  many  mis- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  83' 

conceptions  throw  the  world  into  perplexity  !  how  many  cir- 
cumstances may  extort  forgiveness  for  the  greatest  fault ! 
Often  do  I  figure  her  as  sitting  by  herself  in  silence,  leaning 
on  her  elbows.  '  This,'  she  says,  '  is  the  faith,  the  love,  he 
swore  to  me !  With  this  hard  stroke  to  end  the  delicious 
life  which  made  us  one !  '  He  broke  out  into  a  stream  of 
tears  ;  while  he  threw  himself  down  with  his  face  upon  the 
table,  and  wetted  the  remaining  papers  with  his  weeping. 

Werner  stood  beside  him  in  the  deepest  perplexity.  He 
had  not  anticipated  this  fierce  ebullition  of  feeling.  More 
than  once  he  had  tried  to  interrupt  his  friend,  more  than  once 
to  lead  the  conversation  elsewhere,  but  in  vain  :  the  current 
was  too  strong  for  him.  It  remained  that  long-suffering 
friendship  should  again  take  up  her  office.  Werner  allowed 
the  first  shock  of  sorrow  to  pass  over,  while  by  his  silent 
presence  he  testified  a  pure  and  honest  sympathy.  And 
thus  they  both  remained  that  evening,  —  Wilhelm  sunk  in  the 
dull  feeling  of  old  sorrows ;  and  the  other  terrified  at  this 
new  outbreaking  of  a  passion  which  he  thought  his  prudent 
councils  and  keen  persuasion  had  long  since  mastered  and 
destroyed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AFTER  such  relapses,  Wilhelm  usually  applied  himself  to 
business  and  activity  with  augmented  ardor ;  and  he  found 
it  the  best  means  to  escape  the  labyrinth  into  which  he  had 
again  been  tempted  to  enter.  His  attractive  way  of  treating 
strangers,  the  ease  with  which  he  carried  on  a  correspondence 
in  any  living  language,  more  and  more  increased  the  hopes 
of  his  father  and  his  trading-friends,  and  comforted  them 
in  their  sorrow  for  his  sickness,  —  the  origin  of  which  had  not 
been  known,  —  and  for  the  pause  which  had  thus  interrupted 
their  plan.  They  determined  a  second  time  on  Wilhelm's 
setting  out  to  travel ;  and  we  now  find  him  on  horseback, 
with  his  saddle-bags  behind  him,  exhilarated  by  the  motion 
and  the  free  air,  approaching  the  mountains,  where  he  had 
some  affairs  to  settle. 

He  winded  slowly  on  his  path,  through  dales  and  over 
hills,  with  a  feeling  of  the  greatest  satisfaction.  Overhang- 
ing cliffs,  roaring  brooks,  moss-grown  rocky  walls,  deep 


84  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

precipices,  he  here  saw  for  the  first  time ;  yef  his  earliest 
dreams  of  youth  had  wandered  among  such  regions.  In 
these  scenes  he  felt  his  age  renewed  ;  all  the  sorrows  he  had 
undergone  were  obliterated  from  his  soul ;  with  unbroken 
cheerfulness  he  repeated  to  himself  passages  of  various 
poems,  particularly  of  the  "  Pastor  Fido,"  which,  in  these 
solitary  places,  flocked  in  crowds  into  his  mind.  He  also 
recollected  man}'  pieces  of  his  own  songs,  and  recited  them 
with  a  peculiar  contentment.  He  peopled  the  world  which 
lay  before  him  with  all  the  forms  of  the  past,  and  each  step 
into  the  future  was  to  him  full  of  augury  of  important  opera- 
tions and  remarkable  events. 

Several  men,  who  came  behind  him  in  succession,  and 
saluted  him  as  they  passed  by  to  continue  their  hasty  way 
into  the  mountains,  by  steep  footpaths,  sometimes  interrupted 
his  thoughts  without  attracting  his  attention  to  themselves. 
At  last  a  communicative  traveller  joined  him,  and  explained 
the  reason  of  this  general  pilgrimage. 

"At  Hochdorf,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  play  to  be  acted 
to-night ;  and  the  whole  neighborhood  is  gathering  to  see  it." 

"What!"  cried  Wilhelm.  "In  these  solitary  hills, 
among  these  impenetrable  forests,  has  theatric  art  sought 
out  a  place,  and  built  herself  a  temple?  And  I  am  jour- 
neying to  her  festivities !  " 

"You  will  wonder  more,"  said  the  other,  "when  you 
learn  by  whom  the  play  is  to  be  acted.  There  is  in  the 
place  a  large  manufactory,  which  employs  many  people. 
The  proprietor,  who  lives,  so  to  speak,  remote  from  all 
human  society,  can  find  no  better  means  of  entertaining  his 
workmen  during  winter,  than  allowing  them  to  act  plays. 
He  suffers  no  cards  among  them,  and  wishes  also  to  withdraw 
them  from  all  coarse  rustic  practices.  Thus  they  pass  the 
long  evenings  ;  and  to-day,  being  the  old  gentleman's  birth- 
day, they  are  giving  a  particular  festival  in  honor  of  him." 

AVUhelm  came  to  Hochdorf,  where  he  was  to  pass  the 
night,  and  alighted  at  the  manufactory,  the  proprietor  of 
which  stood  as  a  debtor  in  his  list. 

When  he  gave  his  name,  the  old  man  cried  in  a  glad  sur- 
prise, "Aye,  sir,  are  you  the  son  of  that  worthy  man  to 
whom  I  owe  so  many  thanks,  —  so  long  have  owed  money  ? 
Your  good  father  has  had  so  much  patience  with  me,  I  should 
be  a  knave  if  I  did  not  pay  you  speedily  and  cheerfully. 
You  come  at  the  proper  time  to  see  that  I  am  fully  in  earnest 
about  it." 


MEISTEll'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  85 

He  then  called  out  his  wife,  who  seemed  no  less  delighted 
than  himself  to  see  the  youth :  she  declared  that  he  was  very 
like  his  father,  and  lamented,  that,  having  such  a  multitude 
of  guests  already  in  the  house,  she  could  not  lodge  him  for 
the  night. 

The  account  was  clear,  and  quickly  settled :  Wilhelm  put 
the  roll  of  gold  into  his  pocket,  and  wished  that  all  his  other 
business  might  go  on  so  smoothly.  At  last  the  play-hour 
came :  they  now  waited  nothing  but  the  coming  of  the  head 
forester,  who  at  length  also  arrived,  entered  with  a  few 
hunters,  and  was  received  with  the  greatest  reverence. 

The  company  was  then  led  into  the  playhouse,  formed 
out  of  a  barn  that  lay  close  upon  the  garden.  Without  any 
extraordinary  taste,  both  seats  and  stage  were  yet  decked 
out  in  a  cheerful  and  pretty  way.  One  of  the  painters  em- 
ployed in  the  manufactory  had  formerly  worked  as  an  un- 
derstrapper at  the  prince's  theatre  :  he  had  now  represented 
woods  and  streets  and  chambers,  somewhat  rudely,  it  is 
true,  yet  so  as  to  be  recognized  for  such.  The  play  itself 
they  had  borrowed  from  a  strolling  company,  and  shaped  it 
aright,  according  to  their  own  ideas.  As  it  was,  it  did  not 
fail  to  yield  some  entertainment.  The  plot  of  two  lovers 
wishing  to  carry  off  a  girl  from  her  guardian,  and  mutually 
from  one  another,  produced  a  great  variety  of  interesting  sit- 
uations. Being  the  first  play  our  friend  had  witnessed  for  so 
long  a  time,  it  suggested  several  reflections  to  him.  It  was 
full  of  action,  but  without  any  true  delineation  of  character. 
It  pleased  and  delighted.  Such  are  always  the  beginnings 
of  the  scenic  art.  The  rude  man  is  contented  if  he  see  but 
something  going  on ;  the  man  of  more  refinement  must  be 
made  to  feel ;  the  man  entirely  refined,  desires  to  reflect. 

The  players  he  would  willingly  have  helped  here  and 
there,  for  a  very  little  would  have  made  them  greatly 
better. 

His  silent  meditations  were  somewhat  broken  in  upon  by 
the  tobacco-smoke,  which  now  began  to  rise  in  great  and 
greater  copiousness.  Soon  after  the  commencement  of  the 
play,  the  head  forester  had  lit  his  pipe :  by  and  by  others 
took  the  same  liberty.  The  large  dogs,  too,  which  followed 
these  gentlemen,  introduced  themselves  in  no  pleasant  style. 
At  first  they  had  been  bolted  out ;  but,  soon  finding  the  back- 
door passage,  they  entered  on  the  stage,  ran  against  the 
actors,  and  at  last,  jumping  over  the  orchestra,  joined  their 
masters,  who  had  taken  up  the  front  seats  in  the  pit. 


86  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

For  afterpiece  an  oblation  was  represented.  A  portrait  of 
the  old  gentleman  in  his  bridegroom  dress  stood  upon  an 
altar,  hung  with  garlands.  All  the  players  paid  their  rever- 
ence to  it  in  the  most  submissive  postures.  The  youngest 
child  came  forward  dressed  in  white,  and  made  a  speech  in 
verse ;  by  which  the  whole  family,  and  even  the  head  forester 
himself,  whom  it  brought  in  mind  of  his  own  children,  were 
melted  into  tears.  Thus  ended  the  play ;  and  Wilhelm  could 
not  help  stepping  on  the  stage,  to  have  a  closer  view  of  the 
actresses,  to  praise  them  for  their  good  performance,  and 
give  them  a  little  counsel  for  the  future. 

The  remaining  business,  which  our  friend  in  the  following 
days  had  to  transact  in  various  quarters  of  the  hill-country, 
was  not  all  so  pleasant,  or  so  easy  to  conclude  with  satisfac- 
tion. Many  of  his  debtors  entreated  for  delay,  many  were 
uncourteous,  many  lied.  In  conformity  .with  his  instructions, 
he  had  to  sue  some  of  them  at  law :  he  was  thus  obliged  to 
seek  out  advocates,  and  give  instructions  to  them,  to  appear 
before  judges,  and  go  through  many  other  sorry  duties  of 
the  same  sort. 

His  case  was  hardly  bettered  when  people  chanced  to  in- 
cline showing  some  attention  to  him.  He  found  very  few  that 
could  any  way  instruct  him,  few  with  whom  he  could  hope 
to  establish  a  useful  commercial  correspondence.  Unhappily, 
moreover,  the  weather  now  grew  rainy ;  and  travelling  on 
horseback  in  this  district  came  to  be  attended  with  insuffera- 
ble difficulties.  He  therefore  thanked  his  stars  on  again  get- 
ting near  the  level  country  ;  and  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains, 
looking  out  into  a  fertile  and  beautiful  plain,  intersected  by 
a  smooth-flowing  river,  and  seeing  a  cheerful  little  town  lying 
on  its  banks,  all  glittering  in  the  sunshine,  he  resolved,  though 
without  any  special  business  in  the  place,  to  pass  a  day  or 
two  there,  that  he  might  refresh  both  himself  and  his  horse, 
which  the  bad  roads  had  considerably  injured. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON  alighting  at  an  inn,  upon  the  market-place,  he  found 
matters  going  on  very  joyously,  —  at  least  very  stirringly. 
A  large  company  of  rope-dancers,  leapers,  and  jugglers,  hav- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  87 

ing  a  strong  man  along  with  them,  had  just  arrived  with  their 
wives  and  children,  and,  while  preparing  for  a  grand  exhibi- 
tion, kept  up  a  perpetual  racket.  They  first  quarrelled  with 
the  landlord,  then  with  one  another ;  and,  if  their  contention 
was  intolerable,  the  expressions  of  their  satisfaction  were 
infinitely  more  so.  Undetermined  whether  he  should  go  or 
stay,  he  was  standing  in  the  door  looking  at  some  workmen, 
who  had  just  begun  to  erect  a  stage  in  the  middle  of  the 
square. 

A  girl  with  roses  and  other  flowers  for  sale,  coming  by, 
held  out  her  basket  to  him,  and  he  purchased  a  beautiful 
nosegay ;  which,  like  one  that  had  a  taste  for  these  things, 
he  tied  up  in  a  different  fashion,  and  was  looking  at  it  with 
a  satisfied  air,  when  the  window  of  another  inn  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  square  flew  open,  and  a  handsome  woman 
looked  out  from  it.  Notwithstanding  the  distance,  he  ob- 
served that  her  face  was  animated  by  a  pleasant  cheerfulness ; 
her  fair  hair  fell  carelessly  streaming  about  her  neck ;  she 
seemed  to  be  looking  at  the  stranger.  In  a  short  time  after- 
wards, a  boy  with  a  white  jacket,  and  a  barber's  apron  on, 
came  out  from  the  door  of  her  house  towards  Wilhelm,  saluted 
him,  and  said,  "  The  lady  at  the  window  bids  me  ask  if  you 
will  not  favor  her  with  a  share  of  your  beautiful  flowers."  — 
"  They  are  all  at  her  service,"  answered  Wilhelm,  giving  the 
nosegay  to  this  nimble  messenger,  and  making  a  bow  to  the 
fair  one,  who  returned  it  with  a  friendly  courtesy,  and  then 
withdrew  from  the  window. 

Amused  with  this  small  adventure,  he  was  going  up-stairs 
to  his  chamber,  when  a  young  creature  sprang  against  him, 
and  attracted  his  attention.  A  shoi't  silk  waistcoat  with 
slashed  Spanish  sleeves,  tight  trousers  with  puffs,  looked 
very  pretty  on  the  child.  Its  long  black  hair  was  curled, 
and  wound  in  locks  and  plaits  about  the  head.  He  looked 
at  the  figure  with  astonishment,  and  could  not  determine 
whether  to  take  it  for  a  boy  or  a  girl.  However,  he  decided 
for  the  latter :  and,  as  the  child  ran  by,  he  took  her  up  in 
his  arms,  bade  her  good-day,  and  asked  her  to  whom  she 
belonged ;  though  he  easily  perceived  that  she  must  be  a 
member  of  the  vaulting  and  dancing  company  lately  arrived^ 
She  viewed  him  with  a  dark,  sharp  side-look,  as  she  pushed 
herself  out  of  his  arms,  and  ran  into  the  kitchen  without 
making  any  answer. 

On  coming  up-stairs,  he  found  in  the  large  parlor  two  men 
practising  the  small  sword,  or  seeming  rather  to  make  trial 


88  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

which  was  the  better  fencer.  One  of  them  plainly  enough 
belonged  to  the  vaulting  company  :  the  other  had  a  somewhat 
less  savage  aspect.  Wilhelm  looked  at  them,  and  had  rea- 
son to  admire  them  both ;  -and  as  the  black-bearded,  sturdy 
contender  soon  afterwards  forsook  the  place  of  action,  the 
other  with  extreme  complaisance  offered  Wilhelm  the  rapier. 

"  If  you  want  to  take  a  scholar  under  your  inspection," 
said  our  friend,  "  I  am  well  content  to  risk  a  few  passes  with 
you." 

Accordingly  they  fought  together  ;  and,  although  the  stran- 
ger greatly  overmatched  his  new  competitor,  he  politely  kept 
declaring  that  it  all  depended  upon  practice :  in  fact,  Wilhelm, 
inferior  as  he  was,  had  made  it  evide.it  that  he  had  got  his 
first  instructions  from  a  good,  solid,  thorough-paced  German 
fencing-master. 

Their  entertainment  was  disturbed  by  the  uproar  with 
which  the  party-colored  brotherhood  issued  from  the  inn,  to 
make  proclamation  of  the  show,  and  awaken  a  desire  to  see 
their  art,  throughout  the  town.  Preceded  by  a  drum,  the 
manager  advanced  on  horseback:  he  was  followed  by  a 
female  dancer  mounted  on  a  corresponding  hack,  and  hold- 
ing a  child  before  her,  all  bedizened  with  ribbons  and -span- 
gles. Next  came  the  remainder  of  the  troop  on  foot,  "some 
of  them  carrying  children  on  their  shoulders  in  dangerous 
postures,  yet  smoothly  and  lightly  :  among  these  the  yolmg, 
dark,  black-haired  figure  again  attracted  Wilhelm' s  notice. 

Pickleherring  ran  gayly  up  and  down  the  crowded  multi- 
tude, distributing  his  handbills  with  much  practical  fun,  — here 
smacking  the  lips  of  a  girl,  there  breeching  a  boy,  and  awak- 
ening generally  among  the  people  an  invincible  desire  to  know 
more  of  him. 

On  the  painted  flags,  the  manifold  science  of  the  company 
was  visibly  delineated,  particularly  of  the  Monsieur  Narciss 
and  the  Demoiselle  Landrinette  :  both  of  whom,  being  main 
characters,  had  prudently  kept  back  from  the  procession, 
thereby  to  acquire  a  more  dignified  consideration,  and  excite 
a  greater  curiosity. 

During  the  procession,  Wilhelm's  fair  neighbor  had  again 
appeared  at  the  window  ;  and  he  did  not  fail  to  inquire  about 
her  of  his  new  companion.  This  person,  whom  for  the  pres- 
ent we  shall  call  Laertes,  offered  to  take  Wilhelm  over  and 
introduce  him.  "  I  and  the  lady,"  said  he  laughing,  "  are 
two  fragments  of  an  acting  company  that  made  shipwreck 
here  a  short  while  ago.  The  pleasantness  of  the  place  has 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  89 

induced  us  to  stay  in  it,  and  consume  our  little  stock  of  cash 
in  peace  ;  while  one  of  our  friends  is  out  seeking  some  situa- 
tion for  himself  and  us." 

Laertes  immediately  accompanied  his  new  acquaintance  to 
Philina's  door ;  where  he  left  him  for  a  moment,  and  ran  to  a 
shop  hard  by  for  a  few  sweetmeats.  ' '  I  am  sure  you  will  thank 
me,"  said  he,  on  returning,  "  for  procuring  you  so  pleasant 
an  acquaintance." 

The  lady  came  out  from  her  room,  in  a  pair  of  tight  little 
slippers  with  high  heels,  to  give  them  welcome.  She  had 
thrown  a  black  mantle  over  her,  above  a  white  negligee,  not 
indeed  superstitiously  clean ;  which,  however,  for  that  very 
reason,  gave  her  a  more  frank  and  domestic  air.  Her  short 
dress  did  not  hide  a  pair  of  the  prettiest  feet  and  ankles  in 
the  world. 

"  You  are  welcome,"  she  cried  to  Wilhelm,  "  and  I  thank 
you  for  your  charming  flowers."  She  led  him  into  her  cham- 
ber with  the  one  hand,  pressing  the  nosegay  to  her  breast 
with  the  other.  Being  all  seated,  and  got  into  a  pleasant 
train  of  general  talk,  to  which  she  had  the  art  of  giving  a 
delightful  turn,  Laertes  threw  a  handful  of  gingerbread-nuts 
into  her  lap  ;  and  she  immediately  began  to  eat  them. 

' '  Look  what  a  child  this  young  gallant  is !  "  she  said : 
"  he  wants  to  persuade  you  that  I  am  fond  of  such  confec- 
tionery, and  it  is  himself  that  cannot  live  without  licking 
his  lips  over  something  of  the  kind." 

"Let  us  confess,"  replied  Laertes,  "that  in  this  point, 
as  in  others,  you  and  I  go  hand  in  hand.  For  example,"  he 
continued,  "the  weather  is  delightful  to-day:  what  if  we 
should  take  a  drive  into  the  country,  and  eat  our  dinner  at 
the  Mill?" 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Philina:  "we  must  give  our 
new  acquaintance  some  diversion." 

Laertes  sprang  out,  for  he  never  walked :  and  Wilhelm 
motioned  to  return  for  a  minute  to  his  lodgings,  to  have  his 
hair  put  in  order  ;  for  at  present  it  was  all  dishevelled  with 
riding.  "You  can  do  it  here,"  she  said,  then  called  her 
little  servant,  and  constrained  Wilhelm  in  the  politest  man- 
ner to  lay  off  his  coat,  to  throw  her  powder-mantle  over  him, 
and  to  have  his  head  dressed  in  her  presence.  "  We  must 
lose  no  time,"  said  she  :  "  who  knows  how  short  a  while  we 
may  all  be  together?  " 

The  boy,  out  of  sulkiness  and  ill  nature  more  than  want  of 
skill,  went  on  but  indifferently  with  his  task :  he  pulled  the 


00  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

hair  with  his  implements,  and  seemed  as  if  he  would  not 
soon  be  done.  Philina  more  than  once  reproved  him  for  his 
blunders,  and  at  last  sharply  packed  him  off,  and  chased  him 
to  the  door.  She  then  undertook  the  business  herself,  and 
frizzled  Wilhelm 's  locks  with  great  dexterity  and  grace ; 
though  she,  too,  appeared  to  be  in  no  exceeding  haste,  but 
found  always  this  and  that  to  improve  and  put  to  rights ; 
while  at  the  same  time  she  could  not  help  touching  his  knees 
with  hers,  and  holding  her  nosegay  and  bosom  so  near  his 
lips,  that  he  was  strongly  tempted  more  than  once  to  imprint 
a  kiss  on  it. 

When  Wilhelm  had  cleaned  his  brow  with  a  little  powder- 
knife,  she  said  to  him,  "  Put  it  in  your  pocket,  and  think 
of  me  when  you  see  it."  It  was  a  pretty  knife :  the  haft,  of 
inlaid  steel,  had  these  friendly  words  wrought  on  it,  "  Think 
of  me."  Wilhelm  put  it  up,  and  thanked  her,  begging  per- 
mission at  the  same  time  to  make  her  a  little  present  in 
return. 

At  last  they  were  in  readiness.  Laertes  had  brought 
round  the  coach,  and  they  commenced  a  very  gay  excursion. 
To  every  beggar,  Philina  threw  out  money  from  the  window  : 
giving  along  with  it  a  merry  and  friendly  word. 

Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  Mill,  and  ordered  dinner, 
when  a  strain  of  music  struck  up  before  the  house.  It  was 
some  miners  singing  various  pretty  songs,  and  accompany- 
ing their  clear  and  shrill  voices  with  a  cithern  and  triangle. 
In  a  short  while  the  gathering  crowd  had  formed  a  ring 
about  them,  and  our  company  nodded  approbation  to  them 
from  the  windows.  Observing  this  attention,  they  expanded 
their  circle,  and  seemed  making  preparation  for  their  grand- 
est piece.  After  some  pause,  a  miner  stepped  forward  with 
a  mattock  in  his  hand  ;  and,  while  the  others  played  a  serious 
tune,  he  set  himself  to  represent  the  action  of  digging. 

Ere  long  a  peasant  came  from  among  the  crowd,  and,  by 
pantomimic  threats,  let  the  former  know  that  he  must  cease 
and  remove.  Our  company  were  greatly  surprised  at  this  : 
they  did  not  discover  that  the  peasant  was  a  miner  in  dis- 
guise, till  he  opened  his  mouth,  and,  in  a  sort  of  recitative, 
rebuked  the  other  for  daring  to  meddle  with  his  field.  The 
latter  did  not  lose  his  composure  of  mind,  but  began  to 
inform  the  husbandman  about  his  right  to  break  ground 
there  ;  giving  him  withal  some  primary  conceptions  of  miner- 
alogy. The  peasant,  not  being  master  of  his  foreign  termin- 
ology, asked  all  manner  of  silly  questions ;  whereat  the 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  91 

spectators,  as  themselves  more  knowing,  set  up  man}'  a 
hearty  laugh.  The  miner  endeavored  to  instruct  him,  and 
showed  him  the  advantage,  which,  in  the  long-run,  would 
reach  even  him,  if  the  deep-tying  treasures  of  the  land  were 
dug  out  from  their  secret  beds.  The  peasant,  who  at  first 
had  threatened  his  instructor  with  blows,  was  gradually 
pacified ;  and  they  parted  good  friends  at  last,  though  it  was 
the  miner  chiefly  that  got  out  of  this  contention  with  honor. 

"In  this  little  dialogue,"  said  Wilhelm,  when  seated  at 
the  table,  "we  have  a  lively  proof  how  useful  the  theatre 
might  be  to  all  ranks  ;  what  advantage  even  the  state  might 
procure  from  it,  if  the  occupations,  trades,  and  undertakings 
of  men  were  brought  upon  the  stage,  and  presented  on  their 
praiseworthy  side,  in  that  point  of  view  in  which  the  state 
itself  should  honor  and  protect  them.  As  matters  stand,  we 
exhibit  only  the  ridiculous  side  of  men :  the  comic  poet  is, 
as  it  were,  but  a  spiteful  tax-gatherer,  who  keeps  a  watchful 
eye  over  the  errors  of  his  fellow-subjects,  and  seems  gratified 
when  he  can  fix  any  charge  upon  them.  Might  it  not  be  a 
worthy  and  pleasing  task  for  a  statesman  to  survey  the  natu- 
ral and  reciprocal  influence  of  all  classes  on  each  other,  and 
to  guide  some  poet,  gifted  with  sufficient  humor,  in  such 
labors  as  these?  In  this  way,  I  am  persuaded,  many  very 
entertaining,  both  agreeable  and  useful,  pieces,  might  be 
executed." 

"So  far,"  said  Laertes,  "as  I,  in  wandering  about  the 
world,  have  been  able  to  observe,  statesmen  are  accustomed 
merely  to  forbid,  to  hinder,  to  refuse,  but  very  rarely  to 
invite,  to  further,  to  reward.  They  let  all  things  go  along, 
till  some  mischief  happens :  then  they  get  into  a  rage,  and 
lay  about  them." 

"A  truce  with  state  and  statesmen!"  said  Philina :  "I 
cannot  form  a  notion  of  statesmen  except  in  periwigs  ;  and 
a  periwig,  wear  it  who  will,  always  gives  my  fingers  a  spas- 
modic motion  :  I  could  like  to  pluck  it  off  the  venerable 
gentleman,  to  skip  up  and  down  the  room  with  it,  and  laugh 
at  the  bald  head." 

So,  with  a  few  lively  songs,  which  she  could  sing  very 
beautifully,  Philina  cut  short  their  conversation,  and  urged 
them  to  a  quick  return  homewards,  that  they  might  arrive  in 
time  for  seeing  the  performance  of  the  rope-daucers  in  the 
evening.  On  the  road  back  she  continued  her  lavish  gener- 
osity, in  a  style  of  gayety  reaching  to  extravagance  ;  for  at 
last,  every  coin  belonging  to  herself  or  her  companions  being 


92  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

spent,  she  threw  her  straw  hat  from  the  window  to  a  girl, 
and  her  neckerchief  to  an  old  woman,  who  asked  her  for 
alms. 

Philina  invited  both  of  her  attendants  to  her  own  apart- 
ments, because,  she  said,  the  spectacle  could  be  seen  more 
conveniently  from  her  windows  than  from  theirs. 

On  arriving,  they  found  the  stage  set  up,  and  the  back- 
ground decked  with  suspended  carpets.  The  swing-boards 
were  already  fastened,  the  slack- rope  fixed  to  posts,  the 
tight- rope  bound  over  trestles.  The  sqt\are  was  moderately 
filled  with  people,  and  the  windows  with  spectators  of  some 
quality. 

Pickleherring,  with  a  few  insipidities,  at  which  the  look- 
ers-on are  generally  kind  enough  to  laugh,  first  prepared 
the  meeting  to  attention  and  good-humor.  Some  children, 
whose  bodies  were  made  to  exhibit  the  strangest  contortions, 
awakened  astonishment  or  horror ;  and  Wilhelm  could  not, 
without  the  deepest  sympathy,  see  the  child  he  had  at  the 
first  glance  felt  an  interest  in,  go  through  her  fantastic  posi- 
tions with  considerable  difficulty.  But  the  merry  tumblers 
soon  changed  the  feeling  into  that  of  lively  satisfaction, 
when  they  first  singly,  then  in  rows,  and  at  last  all  together, 
vaulted  up  into  the  air,  making  somersets  backwards  and 
forwards.  A  loud  clapping  of  hands  and  a  strong  huzza 
echoed  from  the  whole  assembly. 

The  general  attention  was  next  directed  to  quite  a  differ- 
ent object.  The  children  in  succession  had  to  mount  the 
rope,  —  the  learners  first,  that  by  practising  they  might  pro- 
long the  spectacle,  and  show  the  difficulties  of  the  art  more 
clearly.  Some  men  and  full-grown  women  likewise  exhibited 
their  skill  to  moderate  advantage ;  but  still  there  was  no 
Monsieur  Narciss,  no  Demoiselle  Landrinette. 

At  last  this  worthy  pair  came  forth :  they  issued  from  a 
kind  of  tent  with  red  spread  curtains,  and,  by  their  agree- 
able forms  and  glittering  decorations,  fulfilled  the  hitherto 
increasing  hopes  of  the  spectators.  He,  a  hearty  knave,  of 
middle  stature,  with  black  eyes  and  a  strong  head  of  hair ; 
she,  formed  with  not  inferior  symmetry, — exhibited  them- 
selves successively  upon  the  rope,  with  delicate  movements, 
leaping,  and  singular  postures.  Her  airy  lightness,  his 
audacity ;  the  exactitude  with  which  they  both  performed 
their  feats  of  art,  —  raised  the  universal  satisfaction  higher  at 
every  step  and  spring.  The  stateliness  with  which  they  bore 
themselves,  the  seeming  attentions  of  the  rest  to  them,  gave 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  93 

them  the  appearance  of  king  and  queen  of  the  whole  troop  ; 
and  all  held  them  worthy  of  the  rank. 

The  animation  of  the  people  spread  to  the  spectators  at 
the  windows :  the  ladies  looked  incessantly  at  Narciss,  the 
gentlemen  at  Landrinette.  The  populace  hurrahed,  the  more 
cultivated  public  could  not  keep  from  clapping  of  the  hands : 
Pickleherriug  now  could  scarcely  raise  a  laugh.  A  few,  how- 
ever, slunk  away  when  some  members  of  the  troop  began  to 
press  through  the  crowd  with  their  tin  plates  to  collect 
money. 

"  They  have  made  their  purpose  good,  I  imagine,"  said 
Wilhelm  to  Philina,  who  was  leaning  over  the  window  beside 
him.  "  I  admire  the  ingenuity  with  which  they  have  turned 
to  advantage  even  the  meanest  parts  of  their  performance : 
out  of  the  unskilfulness  of  their  children,  and  exquisiteness 
of  their  chief  actors,  they  have  made  up  a  whole  which  at 
first  excited  our  attention,  and  then  gave  us  very  Qne  enter- 
tainment. ' ' 

The  people  by  degrees  dispersed ;  and  the  square  was 
again  become  empty,  while  Philiua  and  Laertes  were  disput- 
ing about  the  forms  and  the  skill  of  Narciss  and  Landri- 
nette, and  rallying  each  other  on  the  subject  at  great  length. 
Wilhelm  noticed  the  wonderful  child  standing  on  the  street 
near  some  other  children  at  play  :  he  showed  her  to  Philina, 
who,  in  her  lively  way,  immediately  called  and  beckoned  to 
the  little  one,  and,  this  not  succeeding,  tripped  singing  down 
stairs,  and  led  her  up  by  the  hand. 

"Here  is  the  enigma,"  said  she,  as  she  brought  her  to 
the  door.  The  child  stood  upon  the  threshold,  as  if  she 
meant  again  to  run  off ;  laid  her  right  hand  on  her  breast, 
the  left  on  her  brow,  and  bowed  deeply.  "  Fear  nothing, 
my  little  dear,"  said  Wilhelm,  rising,  and  going  towards  her. 
She  viewed  him  with  a  doubting  look,  and  came  a  few  steps 
nearer. 

"What  is  thy  name?"  he  asked.  "  They  call  me  Mig- 
non."  —  "  How  old  art  thou  ?  "  —  "  No  one  has  counted." — 
"  Who  was  thy  father?  "  —  "  The  Great  Devil  is  dead." 

"Well!  this  is  singular  enough,"  said  Philina.  They 
asked  her  a  few  more  questions  :  she  gave  her  answers  in  a 
kind  of  broken  German,  and  with  a  strangely  solemn  man- 
ner ;  every  time  laying  her  hands  on  her  breast  and  brow, 
and  bowing  deeply. 

Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  her. 
His  eyes  and  his  heart  were  irresistibly  attracted  by  the 


94  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

mysterious  condition  of  this  being.  He  reckoned  her  about 
twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age  :  her  body  was  well  formed, 
only  her  limbs  gave  promise  of  a  stronger  growth,  or  else 
announced  a  stunted  one.  Her  countenance  was  not  regu- 
lar, but  striking ;  her  brow  full  of  mystery ;  her  nose  ex- 
tremely beautiful ;  her  mouth,  although  it  seemed  too  closely 
shut  for  one  of  her  age,  and  though  she  often  threw  it  to 
a  side,  had  yet  an  air  of  frankness,  and  was  very  lovely. 
Her  brownish  complexion  could  scarcely  be  discerned  through 
the  paint.  This  form  stamped  itself  deeply  in  Wilhelm 's 
soul :  he  kept  looking  at  her  earnestly,  and  forgot  the  pres- 
ent scene  in  the  multitude  of  his  reflections.  Philina  waked 
him  from  his  half-dream,  by  holding  out  the  remainder  of 
her  sweetmeats  to  the  child,  and  giving  her  a  sign  to  go 
away.  She  made  her  little  bow  as  formerly,  and  darted 
like  lightning  through  the  door. 

As  the  time  drew  on  when  our  new  friends  had  to  part  for 
the  evening,  they  planned  a  fresh  excursion  for  the  morrow. 
They  purposed  now  to  have  their  dinner  at  a  neighboring 
Jdgerhaus.  Before  taking  leave  of  Laertes,  Wilhelm  said 
many  things  in  Philina's  praise,  to  which  the  other  made 
only  brief  and  careless  answers. 

Next  morning,  having  once  more  exercised  themselves  in 
fencing  for  an  hour,  they  went  over  to  Philina's  lodging, 
towards  which  they  had  seen  their  expected  coach  passing  by. 
But  how  surprised  was  Wilhelm,  when  the  coach  seemed 
altogether  to  have  vanished ;  and  how  much  more  so,  when 
Philina  was  not  to  be  found  at  home  !  She  had  placed  her- 
self in  the  carriage,  they  were  told,  with  a  couple  of  stran- 
gers who  had  come  that  morning,  and  was  gone  with  them. 
Wilhelm  had  been  promising  himself  some  pleasant  enter- 
tainment from  her  company,  and  could  not  hide  his  irritation. 
Laertes,  on  the  other  hand,  but  laughed  at  it,  and  cried,  "  I 
love  her  for  this  :  it  looks  so  like  herself !  Let  us,  however, 
go  directly  to  the  Jdgerhaus :  be  Philina  where  she  pleases, 
we  will  not  lose  our  promenade  on  her  account." 

As  Wilhelm,  while  they  walked,  continued  censuring  the 
inconsistency  of  such  conduct,  Laertes  said,  "I  cannot 
reckon  it  inconsistent  so  long  as  one  keeps  faithful  to  his 
character.  If  this  Philina  plans  you  any  thing,  or  promises 
you  any  thing,  she  does  it  under  the  tacit  condition  that  it 
shall  be  quite  convenient  for  her  to  fulfil  her  plan,  to  keep 
her  promise.  She  gives  willingly,  but  you  must  ever  hold 
yourself  in  readiness  to  return  her  gifts." 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  95 

"  That  seems  a  singular  character,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"Any  thing  but  singular:  only  she  is  not  a  hypocrite.  I 
like  her  on  that  account.  Yes :  I  am  her  friend,  because 
she  represents  the  sex  so  truly,  which  I  have  so  much  cause 
to  hate.  To  me  she  is  another  genuine  Eve,  the  great 
mother  of  womankind :  so  are  they  all,  only  they  will  not  all 
confess  it." 

With  abundance  of  such  talk,  in  which  Laertes  very  vehe- 
mently exhibited  his  spleen  against  the  fair  sex,  without, 
however,  giving  any  cause  for  it,  they  arrived  at  the  forest ; 
into  which  Wilhelm  entered  in  no  joyful  mood,  the  speeches 
of  Laertes  having  again  revived  in  him  the  memory  of  his 
relation  to  Mariana.  Not  far  from  a  shady  well,  among 
some  old  and  noble  trees,  they  found  Philina  sitting  by  her- 
self at  a  stone  table.  Seeing  them,  she  struck  up  a  merry 
song ;  and,  when  Laertes  asked  for  her  companions,  she 
cried  out,  "I  have  already  cozened  them:  I  have  alreadjr 
had  my  laugh  at  them,  and  sent  them  a-travelling,  as  they 
deserved.  By  the  way  hither  I  had  put  to  proof  their  liber- 
ality ;  and,  finding  that  they  were  a  couple  of  your  close- 
fisted  gentry,  I  immediately  determined  to  have  amends  of 
them.  On  arriving  at  the  inn,  they  asked  the  waiter  what 
was  to  be  had.  He,  with  his  customary  glibness  of  tongue, 
reckoned  over  all  that  could  be  found  in  the  house,  and 
more  than  could  be  found.  I  noticed  their  perplexity : 
they  looked  at  one  another,  stammered,  and  inquired  about 
the  cost.  "  What  is  the  use  of  all  this  studying?"  said  I. 
"  The  table  is  the  lady's  business  :  allow  me  to  manage  it." 
I  immediately  began  ordering  a  most  unconscionable  dinner, 
for  which  many  necessary  articles  would  require  to  be  sent 
for  from  the  neighborhood.  The  waiter,  of  whom,  by  a  wry 
mouth  or  two,  I  had  made  a  confidant,  at  last  helped  me 
out;  and  so,  by  the  image  of  a  sumptuous  feast,  we  tor- 
tured them  to  such  a  degree  that  they  fairly  determined 
on  having  a  walk  in  the  forest,  from  which  I  imagine  we 
shall  look  with  clear  eyes  if  we  see  them  come  again.  I 
have  laughed  a  quarter  of  an  hour  for  my  own  behoof ; 
I  shall  laugh  forever  when  I  think  of  the  looks  they  had." 
At  table,  Laertes  told  of  similar  adventures :  they  got  into 
the  track  of  recounting  ludicrous  stories,  mistakes,  and  dex- 
terous cheats. 

A  young  man  of  their  acquaintance,  from  the  town,  came 
gliding  through  the  wood  with  a  book  in  his  hand :  he  sat 
down  by  them,  and  began  praising  the  beauty  of  the  place. 


96  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

He  directed  their  attention  to  the  murmuring  of  the  brook, 
to  the  waving  of  the  boughs,  to  the  checkered  lights  and 
shadows,  and  the  music  of  the  birds.  Philina  commenced  a 
little  song  of  the  cuckoo,  which  did  not  seem  at  all  to  exhila- 
rate the  man  of  taste :  he  very  soon  made  his  compliments, 
and  went  on.  ^  { 

"  Oh  that  I  might  never  hear  more  of  nature,  and  scenes 
of  nature  !  "  cried  Philina,  so  soon  as  he  was  gone  :  "  there 
is  nothing  in  the  world  more  intolerable  than  to  hear  people 
reckon  up  the  pleasures  you  enjoy.  When  the  day  is  bright 
you  go  to  walk,  as  to  dance  when  you  hear  a  tune  played. 
But  who  would  think  a  moment  on  the  music  or  the  weather  ? 
It  is  the  dancer  that  interests  us,  not  the  violin ;  and  to 
look  upon  a  pair  of  bright  black  eyes  is  the  life  of  a  pair  of 
blue  ones.  But  what  on  earth  have  we  to  do  with  wells  and 
brooks,  and  old  rotten  lindens?"  She  was  sitting  opposite 
to  Wilhelm ;  and,  while  speaking  so,  she  looked  into  his  eyes 
with  a  glance  which  he  could  not  hinder  from  piercing  at 
least  to  the  very  door  of  his  heart. 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  he,  not  without  embarrassment : 
"  man  is  ever  the  most  interesting  object  to  man,  and  per- 
haps should  be  the  only  one  that  interests.  Whatever  else 
surrounds  us  is  but  the  element  in  which  we  live,  or  else  the 
instrument  which  we  employ.  The  more  we  devote  our- 
selves to  such  things,  the  more  we  attend  to  and  feel  concern 
in  them,  the  weaker  will  our  sense  of  our  own  dignity  be- 
come, the  weaker  our  feelings  for  society.  Men  who  put  a 
great  value  on  gardens,  buildings,  clothes,  ornaments,  or  any 
other  sort  of  property,  grow  less  social  and  pleasant :  they 
lose  sight  of  their  brethren,  whom  very  few  can  succeed  in 
collecting  about  them  and  entertaining.  Have  you  not  ob- 
served it  on  the  stage?  A  good  actor  makes  us  very  soon 
forget  the  awkwardness  and  meanness  of  paltry  decorations, 
but  a  splendid  theatre  is  the  very  thing  which  first  makes  us 
truly  feel  the  want  of  proper  actors. 

After  dinner  Philina  sat  down  among  the  long,  overshaded 
grass,  and  commanded  both  her  friends  to  fetch  her  flowers 
in  great  quantities.  She  wreathed  a  complete  garland,  and 
put  it  round  her  head  :  it  made  her  look  extremely  charming. 
The  flowers  were  still  sufficient  for  another :  this,  too,  she 
plaited,  while  both  the  young  men  sat  beside  her.  When,  at 
last,  amid  infinite  mirth  and  sportfulness,  it  was  completed, 
she  pressed  it  on  Wilhelm 's  head  with  the  greatest  dignity, 
and  shifted  the  posture  of  it  more  than  once,  till  it  seemed 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  97 

to  her  properly  adjusted.  "And  I,  it  appears,  must  go 
empty,"  said  Laertes. 

' '  Not  by  any  means  :  you  shall  not  have  reason  to  com- 
plain," replied  Philina,  taking  off  the  garland  from  her  own 
head,  and  putting  it  on  his. 

"If  we  were  rivals,"  said  Laertes,  "we  might  now  dis- 
pute very  warmly  which  of  us  stood  higher  in  thy  favor." 

"And  the  more  fools  you,"  said  she,  while  she  bent  her- 
self towards  him,  and  offered  him  her  lips  to  kiss  ;  and  then 
immediately  turned  round,  threw  her  arm  about  Wilhelm, 
and  bestowed  a  kind  salute  on  him  also.  ' '  Which  of  them 
tastes  best  ?  ' '  said  she  archly. 

"Surprisingly!"  exclaimed  Laertes:  "it  seems  as  if 
nothing  else  had  ever  such  a  tang  of  wormwood  in  it." 

"As  little  wormwood,"  she  replied,  "as  any  gift  that  a 
man  may  enjoy  without  envy  and  without  conceit.  But 
now,"  cried  she,  "  I  should  like  to  have  an  hour's  dancing ; 
and  after  that  we  must  look  to  our  vaulters." 

Accordingly,  they  went  into  the  house,  and  there  found 
music  in  readiness.  Philina  was  a  beautiful  dancer:  she 
animated  both  her  companions.  Nor  was  Wilhelm  without 
skill ;  but  he  wanted  careful  practice,  a  defect  which  his  two 
friends  voluntarily  took  charge  of  remedying. 

In  these  amusements  the  time  passed  on  insensibly.  It 
was  already  late  when  they  returned.  The  rope-dancers 
had  commenced  their  operations.  A  multitude  of  people 
had  again  assembled  in  the  square ;  and  our  friends,  on 
alighting,  were  struck  by  the  appearance  of  a  tumult  in  the 
crowd,  occasioned  by  a  throng  of  men  rushing  towards  the 
door  of  the  inn,  which  Wilhelm  had  now  turned  his  face 
to.  He  sprang  forward  to  see  what  it  was ;  and,  pressing 
through  the  people,  he  was  struck  with  horror  to  observe  the 
master  of  the  rope-dancing  company  dragging  poor  Mignon 
by  the  hair  out  of  the  house,  and  unmercifully  beating  her 
little  body  with  the  handle  of  a  whip. 

Wilhelm  darted  on  the  man  like  lightning,  and  seized  him 
by  the  collar.  "  Quit  the  child !  "  he  cried,  in  a  furious  tone, 
"or  one  of  us  shall  never  leave  this  spot !  "  and,  so  speak- 
ing, he  grasped  the  fellow  by  the  throat  with  a  force  which 
only  rage  could  have  lent  him.  The  showman,  on  the  point 
of  choking,  let  go  the  child,  and  endeavored  to  defend  himself 
against  his  new  assailant.  But  some  people,  who  had  felt 
compassion  for  Mignon,  yet  had  not  dared  to  begin  a  quar- 
rel for  her,  now  laid  hold  of  the  rope-dancer,  wrenched  his 


98  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

whip  away,  and  threatened  him  with  great  fierceness  and 
abuse.  Being  now  reduced  to  the  weapons  of  his  mouth, 
he  began  bullying,  and  cursing  horribly.  The  lazy,  worth- 
less urchin,  he  said,  would  not  do  her' duty ;  refused  to  per- 
form the  egg-dance,  which  he  had  promised  to  the  public ; 
he  would  beat  her  to  death,  and  no  one  should  hinder  him. 
He  tried  to  get  loose,  and  seek  the  child,  who  had  crept 
away  among  the  crowd.  Wilhelm  held  him  back,  and  said 
sternly,  "You  shall  neither  see  nor  touch  her,  till  you 
have  explained  before  a  magistrate  where  you  stole  her.  I 
will  pursue  you  to  every  extremity.  You  shall  not  escape 
me."  These  words,  which  Wilhelm  uttered  in  heat,  without 
thought  or  purpose,  out  of  some  vague  feeling,  or,  if  you 
will,  out  of  inspiration,  soon  brought  the  raging  showman  to 
composure.  "  What  have  I  to  do  with  the  useless  brat?" 
cried  he.  "  Pay  me  what  her  clothes  cost,  and  make  of  her 
what  you  please.  We  shall  settle  it  to-night."  And,  being 
liberated,  he  made  haste  to  resume  his  interrupted  opera- 
tions, and  to  calm  the  irritation  of  the  public  by  some  strik- 
ing displaj^s  of  his  craft. 

As  soon  as  all  was  still  again,  Wilhelm  commenced  a 
search  for  Mignon,  whom,  however,  he  could  nowhere  find. 
Some  said  they  had  seen  her  on  the  street,  others  on  the 
roofs  of  the  adjoining  houses ;  but,  after  seeking  unsuccess- 
fully in  all  quarters,  he  was  forced  to  content  himself,  and 
wait  to  see  if  she  would  not  again  turn  up  of  herself. 

In  the  mean  time,  Narciss  had  come  into  the  house  ;  and 
Wilhelm  set  to  question  him  about  the  birthplace  and  history 
of  the  child.  Monsieur  Narciss  knew  nothing  about  these 
things,  for  he  had  not  long  been  in  the  company ;  but  in 
return  he  recited,  with  much  volubility  and  levity,  various 
particulars  of  his  own  fortune.  Upon  Wilhelm' s  wishing 
him  joy  of  the  great  approbation  he  had  gained,  Narciss  ex- 
pressed himself  as  if  exceedingly  indifferent  on  that  point. 
"  People  laugh  at  us,"  he  said,  "and  admire  our  feats  of 
skill ;  but  their  admiration  does  nothing  for  us.  The  master 
has  to  pay  us,  and  may  raise  the  funds  where  he  pleases." 
He  then  took  his  leave,  and  was  setting  off  in  great  haste. 

At  the  question,  whither  he  was  bent  so  fast,  the  dog 
gave  a  smile,  and  admitted  that  his  figure  and  talents  had 
acquired  for  him  a  more  solid  species  of  favor  than  the  huz- 
zaing of  the  multitude.  He  had  been  invited  by  some  young 
ladies,  who  desired  much  to  become  acquainted  with  him ; 
and  he  was  afraid  it  would  be  midnight  before  he  could  get 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  99 

all  his  visits  over.  He  proceeded  with  the  greatest  candor 
to  detail  his  adventures.  He  would  have  given  the  names 
of  his  patronesses,  their  streets  and  houses,  had  not  Wil- 
helm  waived  such  indiscretion,  and  politely  dismissed  him. 

Laertes  had  meanwhile  been  entertaining  Landrinette  :  he 
declared  that  she  was  fully  worthy  to  be  and  to  remain  a 
woman. 

Our  friend  next  proceeded  to  his  bargain  with  the  show- 
man for  Mignon.  Thirty  crowns  was  the  price  set  upon  her ; 
and  for  this  sum  the  black-bearded,  hot  Italian  entirely  sur- 
rendered all  his  claims :  but  of  her  history  or  parentage  he 
would  discover  nothing,  only  that  she  had  fallen  into  his 
hands  at  the  death  of  his  brother,  who,  by  reason  of  his  ad- 
mirable skill,  had  usually  been  named  the  "  Great  Devil." 

Next  morning  was  chiefly  spent  in  searching  for  the  child. 
It  was  in  vain  that  they  rummaged  every  hole  and  corner  of 
the  house  and  neighborhood :  the  child  had  vanished ;  and 
Wilhelm  was  afraid  she  might  have  leaped  into  some  pool  of 
water,  or  destroyed  herself  in  some  other  way. 

Philina's  charms  could  not  divert  his  inquietude.  He 
passed  a  dreary,  thoughtful  day.  Nor  at  evening  could  the 
utmost  efforts  of  the  tumblers  and  dancers,  exerting  all 
their  powers  to  gratify  the  public,  divert  the  current  of  his 
thoughts,  or  clear  away  the  clouds  from  his  mind. 

By  the  concourse  of  people  flocking  from  all  places  round, 
the  numbers  had  greatly  increased  on  this  occasion :  the 
general  approbation  was  like  a  snowball  rolling  itself  into 
a  monstrous  size.  The  feat  of  leaping  over  swords,  and 
through  the  cask  with  paper  ends,  made  a  great  sensation. 

The  strong  man,  too,  produced  a  universal  feeling  of  min- 
gled astonishment  and  horror,  when  he  laid  his  head  and 
feet  on  a  couple  of  separate  stools,  and  then  allowed  some 
sturdy  smiths  to  place  a  stithy  on  the  unsupported  part  of 
his  body,  and  hammer  a  horseshoe  till  it  was  completely 
made  by  means  of  it. 

The  Hercules'  Strength,  as  they  called  it,  was  a  no  less 
wonderful  affair.  A  row  of  men  stood  up ;  then  another 
row,  upon  their  shoulders ;  then  women  and  young  lads, 
supported  in  like  manner  on  the  second  row  ;  so  that  finally 
a  living  pyramid  was  formed  ;  the  peak  being  ornamented  by 
a  child,  placed  on  its  head,  and  dressed  out  in  the  shape  of 
a  ball  and  weather-vane.  Such  a  sight,  never  witnessed  in 
those  parts  before,  gave  a  worthy  termination  to  the  whole 
performance.  Narciss  and  Landrinette  were  then  borne  in 


100  MEISTERTS  APPRENTICESHIP. 

litters,  on  the  shoulders  of  the  rest,  along  the  chief  streets  of 
the  town,  amid  the  triumphant  shouts  of  the  people.  Rib- 
bons, nosegays,  silks,  were  thrown  upon  them :  all  pressed 
to  get  a  sight  of  them.  Each  thought  himself  happy  if  he 
could  behold  them,  and  be  honored  with  a  look  of  theirs. 

"What  actor,  what  author,  nay,  what  man  of  any  class, 
would  not  regard  himself  as  on  the  summit  of  his  wishes, 
could  he,  by  a  noble  saying  or  a  worthy  action,  produce  so 
universal  an  impression  ?  What  a  precious  emotion  would 
it  give,  if  one  could  disseminate  generous,  exalted,  manly 
feelings  with  electric  force  and  speed,  and  rouse  assembled 
thousands  into  such  rapture,  as  these  people,  by  their  bodily 
alertness,  have  done !  If  one  could  communicate  to  throng- 
ing multitudes  a  fellow-feeling  in  all  that  belongs  to  man, 
by  the  portraying  of  happiness  and  misery,  of  wisdom  and 
folly,  nay,  of  absurdity  and  silliness ;  could  kindle  and  thrill 
their. inmost  souls,  and  set  their  stagnant  nature  into  move- 
ment, free,  vehement,  and  pure!"  So  said  our  friend; 
and,  as  neither  Laertes  nor  Fhilina  showed  any  disposition 
to  take  part  in  such  a  strain,  he  entertained  himself  with 
these  darling  speculations,  walking  up  and  down  the  streets 
till  late  at  night,  and  again  pursuing,  with  all  the  force  and 
vivacity  of  a  liberated  imagination,  his  old  desire  to  have  all 
that  was  good  and  noble  and  great  embodied  and  shown 
forth  by  the  theatric  art. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NEXT  morning,  the  rope-dancers,  not  without  much  parade 
and  bustle,  having  gone  away,  Mignon  immediately  ap- 
peared, and  came  into  the  parlor  as  Wilhelm  and  Laertes 
were  busy  fencing.  "  Where  hast  thou  been  hid?  "  said 
Wilhelm,  in  a  friendly  tone.  "  Thou  hast  given  us  a  great 
deal  of  anxiety.  "The  child  looked  at  him,  and  answered 
nothing.  "  Thou  art  ours  now,"  cried  Laertes :  "  we  have 
bought  thee." — "  For  how  much?  "  inquired  the  child  quite 
coolly.  "For  a  hundred  ducats,"  said  the  other:  "pay 
them  again,  and  thou  art  free."  —  "Is  that  very  much  ?  "  she 
asked.  "  Oh,  yes  I  thou  must  now  be  a  good  child."  —  "I 
will  try,"  she  said. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  101 

From  that  moment  she  observed  strictly  what  services  the 
waiter  had  to  do  for  both  her  friends  ;  and,  after  next  day, 
she  would  not  any  more  let  him  enter  the  room.  She  per- 
sisted in  doing  every  thing  herself,  and  accordingly  went 
through  her  duties,  slowly,  indeed,  and  sometimes  awk- 
wardly, yet  completely,  and  with  the  greatest  care. 

She  was  frequently  observed  going  to  a  basin  of  water, 
and  washing  her  face  with  such  diligence  and  violence,  that 
she  almost  wore  the  skin  from  her  cheeks ;  till  Laertes,  by 
dint  of  questions  and  reproofs,  learned  that  she  was  striving 
by  all  means  to  get  the  paint  from  her  skin,  and  that,  in 
her  zealous  endeavors  towards  this  object,  she  had  mistaken 
the  redness  produced  by  rubbing  for  the  most  obdurate  dye. 
They  set  her  right  on  this  point,  and  she  ceased  her  efforts  ; 
after  which,  having  come  again  to  her  natural  state,  she  ex- 
hibited a  fine  brown  complexion,  beautiful,  though  sparingly 
intermingled  with  red. 

The  siren  charms  of  Philiua,  the  mysterious  presence  of 
the  child,  produced  more  impression  on  our  friend  than  he 
liked  to  confess :  he  passed  several  days  in  that  strange 
society,  endeavoring  to  elude  self-reproaches  by  a  diligent 
practice  of  fencing  and  dancing,  —  accomplishments  which 
he  believed  might  not  again  be  put  within  his  reach  so  con- 
veniently. 

It  was  with  great  surprise,  and  not  without  a  certain  satis- 
faction, that  he  one  day  observed  Herr  Melina  and  his  wife 
alight  at  the  inn.  After  the  first  glad  salutation,  they  in- 
quired about  "the  lady-manager  and  the  other  actors," 
and  learned,  with  astonishment  and  terror,  that  the  lady- 
manager  had  long  since  gone  away,  and  her  actors,  to  a 
very  few,  dispersed  themselves  about  the  country. 

This  couple,  subsequently  to  their  marriage,  in  which,  as 
we  know,  our  friend  did  his  best  to  serve  them,  had  been 
travelling  about  in  various  quarters,  seeking  an  engagement, 
without  finding  any,  and  had  at  last  been  directed  to  this 
little  town  by  some  persons  who  met  them  on  their  journey, 
and  said  there  was  a  good  theatre  in  the  place. 

Melina  by  no  means  pleased  the  lively  Laertes,  when  in- 
troduced to  him,  any  more  than  his  wife  did  Philina.  Both 
heartily  wished  to  be  rid  of  these  new-comers  ;  and  Wilhelm 
could  inspire  them  with  no  favorable  feelings  on  the  subject, 
though  he  more  than  once  assured  them  that  the  Melina« 
were  very  worthy  people. 

Indeed,  the  previous  merry  life  of  our  three  adventurers 


102  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

was  interfered  with  by  this  extension  of  their  society,  in 
more  ways  than  one.  Melina  had  taken  up  his  quarters  in 
the  inn  where  Philina  staid,  and  he  very  soon  began  a 
system  of  cheapening  and  higgling.  He  would  have  better 
lodging,  more  sumptuous  diet,  and  readier  attendance,  for  a 
smaller  charge.  In  a  short  while,  the  landlord  and  waiter 
showed  very  rueful  looks ;  for  whereas  the  others,  to  get 
pleasantly  along,  had  expressed  no  discontent  with  any  thing, 
and  paid  instantly,  that  they  might  avoid  thinking  longer  of 
payment,  Melina  now  insisted  on  regulating  every  meal,  and 
investigating  its  contents  beforehand,  —  a  species  of  service 
for  which  Philina  named  him,  without  scruple,  a  ruminating 
animal. 

Yet  more  did  the  merry  girl  hate  Melina' s  wife.  Frau 
Melina  was  a  young  woman  not  without  culture,  but  wofully 
defective  in  soul  and  spirit.  She  could  declaim  not  badly, 
and  kept  declaiming  constantly ;  but  it  was  easy  to  observe 
tha't  her  performances  were  little  more  than  recitations  of 
words.  She  labored  a  few  detached  passages,  but  never 
could  express  the  feeling  of  the  whole.  Withal,  however, 
she  was  seldom  disagreeable  to  any  one,  especially  to  men. 
On  the  contrary,  people  who  enjoyed  her  acquaintance  com- 
monly ascribed  to  her  a  fine  understanding ;  for  she  was 
what  might  be  called  a  kind  of  spiritual  chameleon,  or  taker- 
on.  Any  friend  whose  favor  she  had  need  of  she  could  flatter 
with  peculiar  adroitness,  could  give  in  to  his  ideas  so  long  as 
she  could  understand  them,  and,  when  they  went  beyond  her 
own  horizon,  could  hail  with  ecstasy  such  new  and  brilliant 
visions.  She  understood  well  when  to  speak  and  when  to 
keep  silence ;  and,  though  her  disposition  was  not  spiteful, 
she  could  spy  out  with  great  expertness  where  another's 
weak  side  lay. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MELINA,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  making  strict  inquiry 
about  the  wrecks  of  the  late  theatrical  establishment.  The 
wardrobe,  as  well  as  decorations,  had  been  pawned  with 
some  traders ;  and  a  notary  had  been  empowered,  under 
certain  conditions,  to  dispose  of  them  by  sale,  should  pur- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  103 

chasers  occur.  Melina  wished  to  see  this  ware,  and  he  took 
Wilhelm  with  him.  No  sooner  was  the  room  opened,  than 
our  friend  felt  towards  its  contents  a  kind  of  inclination, 
which  he  would  not  confess  to  himself.  Sad  as  was  the  state 
of  the  blotched  and  tarnished  decorations  ;  little  showy  as 
the  Turkish  and  pagan  garments,  the  old  farce-coats  foi- 
men  and  women,  the  cowls  for  enchanters,  priests,  and  Jews, 
might  be,  —  he  was  not  able  to  exclude  the  feeling,  that  the 
happiest  moments  of  his  life  had  been  spent  in  a  similar 
magazine  of  frippery.  Could  Melina  have  seen  into  his 
heart,  he  would  have  urged  him  more  pressingl}'  to  lay  out 
a  sum  of  money  in  liberating  these  scattered  fragments,  in 
furbishing  them  up,  and  again  combining  them  into  a  beau- 
tiful whole.  "  What  a  happy  man  could  I  be,"  cried  Melina, 
"  had  I  but  two  hundred  crowns,  to  get  into  my  hands,  for  a 
beginning,  these  fundamental  necessaries  of  a  theatre  !  How 
soon  should  I  get  up  a  little  playhouse,  that  would  draw  con- 
tributions from  the  town  and  neighborhood,  and  maintain  us 
all !  "  Wilhelm  was  silent.  They  left  these  treasures  of 
the  stage,  to  be  again  locked  up,  and  both  went  away  in  a 
reflective  mood. 

Thenceforth  Melina  talked  of  nothing  else  but  projects 
and  plans  for  setting  up  a  theatre,  and  gaining  profit  by  it. 
He  tried  to  interest  Fhiliua  and  Laertes  in  his  schemes  ;  and 
proposals  were  made  to  Wilhelm  about  advancing  money, 
and  taking  them  as  his  security.  On  this  occasion,  Wilhelm 
first  clearly  perceived  that  he  was  lingering  too  long  here : 
he  excused  himself,  and  set  about  making  preparations  for 
departure. 

In  the  mean  time,  Mignon's  form,  and  manner  of  existence, 
were  growing  more  attractive  to  him  every  day.  In  her  whole 
sj'stcm  of  proceedings  there  was  something  very  singular. 
She  never  walked  up  or  down  the  stairs,  but  jumped.  She 
would  spring  along  by  the  railing,  and  before  you  were  aware 
would  be  sitting  quietly  above  upon  the  landing.  Wilhelm 
had  observed,  also,  that  she  had  a  different  sort  of  salutation 
for  each  individual.  For  himself,  it  had  of  late  been  with 
her  arms  crossed  upon  her  breast.  Often  for  the  whole  day 
she  was  mute.  At  times  she  answered  various  questions 
more  freely,  yet  always  strangely :  so  that  you  could  not 
determine  whether  it  was  caused  by  shrewd  sense,  or  igno- 
rance of  the  language  ;  for  she  spoke  in  broken  German  in- 
terlaced with  French  and  Italian.  In  Wilhelm 's  service  she 
was  indefatigable,  and  up  before  the  sun.  On  the  other 


104  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hand,  she  vanished  early  in  the  evening,  went  to  sleep  in  a 
little  room  upon  the  bare  floor,  and  could  not  by  any  means 
be  induced  to  take  a  bed  or  even  a  paillasse.  He  often 
found  her  washing  herself.  Her  clothes,  too,  were  kept 
scrupulously  clean  ;  though  nearly  all  about  her  was  quilted 
two  or  three  plies  thick.  Wilhelm  was  moreover  told,  that 
she  went  every  morning  early  to  hear  mass.  He  followed 
her  on  one  occasion,  and  saw  her  kneeling  down  with  a  ros- 
ary in  a  corner  of  the  church,  and  praying  devoutly.  She 
did  not  observe  him ;  and  he  returned  home,  forming  many 
a  conjecture  about  this  appearance,  yet  unable  to  arrive  at 
any  probable  conclusion. 

A  new  application  from  Melina  for  a  sum  of  money  to 
redeem  the  often-mentioned  stage  apparatus  caused  Wil- 
helm to  think  more  seriously  than  ever  about  setting  off.  He 
proposed  writing  to  his  people,  who  for  a  long  time  had 
heard  no  tidings  of  him,  by  the  very  earliest  post.  He 
accordingly  commenced  a  letter  to  Werner,  and  had  advanced 
a  considerable  way  with  the  history  of  his  adventures,  in 
recounting  which  he  had  more  than  once  unintentionally 
swerved  a  little  from  the  truth,  when,  to  his  vexation  and 
surprise,  he  observed,  upon  the  back  of  his  sheet,  some  verses 
which  he  had  been  copying  from  his  album  for  Madam 
Melina.  Out  of  humor  at  this  mistake,  he  tore  the  paper  in 
pieces,  and  put  off  repeating  his  confession  till  the  next  post- 
day. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OUR  party  was  now  again  collected ;  and  Philina,  who 
always  kept  a  sharp  lookout  on  every  horse  or  carriage  that 
passed  by,  exclaimed  with  great  eagerness,  "Our  Pedant! 
Here  comes  our  dearest  Pedant !  Who  the  deuce  is  it  he  has 
with  him?  "  Speaking  thus,  she  beckoned  at  the  window; 
and  the  vehicle  drew  up. 

A  woful-looking  genius,  whom  by  his  shabby  coat  of  gray- 
ish brown,  and  his  ill-conditioned  lower  garments,  you  must 
have  taken  for  some  unprosperous  preceptor,  of  the  sort  that 
moulder  in  our  universities,  now  descended  from  the  carriage, 
and,  taking  off  his  hat  to  salute  Philina,  discovered  an  ill- 
powdered,  but  yet  very  stiff,  periwig  ;  while  Philina  threw  a 
hundred  kisses  of  the  hand  towards  him. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  105 

As  Philina's  chief  enjoyment  lay  in  loving  one  class  of 
men,  and  being  loved  by  them ;  so  there  was  a  second  and 
hardly  inferior  satisfaction,  wherewith  she  entertained  herself 
as  frequently  as  possible  ;  and  this  consisted  in  hoodwinking 
and  passing  jokes  upon  the  other  class,  whom  at  such 
moments  she  happened  not  to  love,  —  all  which  she  could 
accomplish  in  a  very  sprightly  style. 

Amid  the  flourish  which  she  made  in  receiving  this  old 
friend,  no  attention  was  bestowed  upon  the  rest  who  followed 
him.  Yet  among  the  party  were  an  oldish  man  and  two 
young  girls,  whom  Wilhelm  thought  he  knew.  Accordingly 
it  turned  out,  that  he  had  often  seen  them  all,  some  years 
ago,  in  a  company  then  playing  in  his  native  town.  The 
daughters  had  grown  since  that  period :  the  old  man  was  a 
little  altered.  He  commonly  enacted  those  good-hearted, 
boisterous  old  gentlemen,  whom  the  German  theatre  is  never 
without,  and  whom,  in  common  life,  one  also  frequently 
enough  falls  in  with.  For  as  it  is  the  character  of  our  coun- 
trymen to  do  good,  and  cause  it,  without  pomp  or  circum- 
stance ;  so  they  seldom  consider  that  there  is  likewise  a 
mode  of  doing  what  is  right  with  grace  and  dignity :  more 
frequently,  indeed,  they  yield  to  the  spirit  of  contradiction, 
and  fall  into  the  error  of  deforming  their  dearest  virtue  by 
a  surly  mode  of  putting  it  in  practice. 

Such  parts  our  actor  could  play  very  well ;  and  he  played 
them  so  often  and  exclusively,  that  he  had  himself  taken  up 
the  same  turn  of  pi'oceeding  in  his  ordinary  life. 

On  recognizing  him,  Wilhelm  was  seized  with  a  strong 
commotion ;  for  he  recollected  how  often  he  had  seen  this 
man  on  the  stage  with  his  beloved  Mariana :  he  still  heard 
him  scolding,  still  heard  the  small,  soothing  voice,  with  which 
in  many  characters  she  had  to  meet  his  rugged  temper. 

The  first  anxious  question  put  to  the  strangers,  — Whether 
they  had  heard  of  any  situation  in  their  travels  ?  —  was  an- 
swered, alas,  with  No !  and,  to  complete  the  information,  it 
was  further  added,  that  all  the  companies  they  had  fallen  in 
with  were  not  only  supplied  with  actors,  but  many  of  them 
were  afraid  lest,  on  account  of  the  approaching  war,  they 
should  be  forced  to  separate.  Old  Boisterous,  with  his 
daughters,  moved  by  spleen  and  love  of  change,  had  given 
up  an  advantageous  engagement :  then,  meeting  with  the 
Pedant  by  the  way,  they  had  hired  a  carriage  to  come  hither ; 
where,  as  they  found,  good  counsel  was  still  dear,  needful  to 
have,  and  difficult  to  get. 


106  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

The  time  while  the  rest  were  talking  very  keenly  of  their 
circumstances,  Wilhelm  spent  in  thought.  He  longed  to 
speak  in  private  with  the  old  man :  he  wished  and  feared 
to  hear  of  Mariana,  and  felt  the  greatest  disquietude. 

The  pretty  looks  of  the  stranger  damsels  could  not  call  him 
from  his  dream ;  but  a  war  of  words,  which  now  arose, 
awakened  his  attention.  It  was  Friedrich,  the  fair-haired 
boy  who  used  to  attend  Philina,  stubbornly  refusing,  on  this 
occasion,  to  cover  the  table  and  bring  up  dinner.  "  I  en- 
gaged to  serve  you,"  he  cried,  "  but  not  to  wait  on  every- 
body." They  fell  into  a  hot  contest.  Philina  insisted  that 
he  should  do  his  duty ;  and,  as  he  obstinately  refused,  she 
told  him  plainly  he  might  go  about  his  business. 

"You  think,  perhaps,  I  cannot  leave  you!"  cried  he 
sturdily,  then  went  to  pack  up  his  bundle,  and  soon  hastily 
quitted  the  house. 

"  Go,  Mignou,"  said  Philina,  "  and  get  us  what  we  want : 
tell  the  waiter,  and  help  him  to  attend  us." 

Mignon  came  before  Wilhelm,  and  asked  in  her  laconic 
way,  "Shall  I?  May  I?"  To  which  Wilhelm  answered, 
"  Do  all  the  lady  bids  thee,  child." 

She  accordingly  took  charge  of  every  thing,  and  waited  on 
the  guests  the  whole  evening,  with  the  utmost  carefulness. 
After  dinner,  Wilhelm  proposed  to  have  a  walk  with  the  old 
man  alone.  Succeeding  in  this,  after  many  questions  about 
his  late  wanderings,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  former 
company  ;  and  Wilhelm  hazarded  a  question  touching  Mari- 
ana. 

"  Do  not  speak  to  me  of  that  despicable  creature  !  "  cried 
the  old  man:  "I  have  sworn  to  think  of  her  no  more." 
Terrified  at  this  speech,  Wilhelm  felt  still  more  embarrassed, 
as  the  old  man  proceeded  to  vituperate  her  fickleness  and 
wantonness.  Most  gladly  would  our  friend  have  broken  off 
the  conversation,  but  now  it  was  impossible  :  he  was  obliged 
to  undergo  the  whole  tumultuous  effusions  of  this  strange  old 
gentleman. 

"  I  am  ashamed,"  continued  he,  "  that  I  felt  such  a  friend- 
ship for  her.  I  et,  had  you  known  the  girl  better,  you  would 
excuse  me.  She  was  so  pretty,  so  natural  and  good,  so 
pleasing,  in  every  sense  so  tolerable,  I  could  never  have  sup- 
posed that  ingratitude  and  impudence  were  to  prove  the  chief 
features  of  her  character." 

Wilhelm  had  nerved  himself  to  hear  the  worst  of  her; 
when  all  at  once  he  observed,  with  astonishment,  that  the 


MEISTEIl'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  107 

old  man's  tones  grew  milder,  his  voice  faltered,  and  he  took 
out  his  handkerchief  to  dry  the  tears,  which  at  last  began  to 
trickle  down  his  cheeks. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  "cried  "VVilhelm.  "  What 
is  it  that  suddenty  so  changes  the  current  of  your  feelings? 
Conceal  it  not  from  me.  I  take  a  deeper  interest  in  the  fate 
of  this  girl  than  you  suppose.  Only  tell  me  all." 

"  I  have  not  much  to  say,"  replied  the  old  man,  again  tak- 
ing up  his  earnest,  angry  tone.  "  I  have  suffered  more  from 
her  than  I  shall  ever  forgive.  She  had  always  a  kind  of 
trust  in  me.  I  loved  her  as  my  own  daughter  ;  indeed,  while 
my  wife  lived,  I  had  formed  a  resolution  to  take  the  creature 
to  my  own  house,  and  save  her  from  the  hands  of  that  old 
crone,  from  whose  guidance- 1  boded  no  good.  But  my  wife 
died,  and  the  project  went  to.  nothing. 

"  About  the  end  of  our  stay  in  your  native  town,  —  it  is 
not  quite  three  years  ago,  —  I  noticed  a  visible  sadness  about 
her.  I  questioned  her,  but  she  evaded  me.  At  last  we  set 
out  on  our  journey.  She  travelled  in  the  same  coach  with 
me ;  and  I  soon  observed,  what  she  herself  did  not  long 
den}',  that  she  was  with  child,  and  suffering  the  greatest  ter- 
ror lest  our  manager  might  turn  her  off.  In  fact,  in  a  short 
while  he  did  make  the  discovery  ;  immediately  threw  up  her 
contract,  which  at  any  rate  was  only  for  six  weeks  ;  paid  off 
her  arrears ;  and,  in  spite  of  all  entreaties,  left  her  behind, 
in  the  miserable  inn  of  a  little  village. 

"  Devil  take  all  wanton  jilts  !  "  cried  the  old  man,  with  a 
splenetic  tone,  "  and  especially  this  one,  that  has  spoiled  me 
so  many  hours  of  my  life  !  Why  should  I  keep  talking  how 
I  myself  took  charge  of  her,  what  I  did  for  her,  what  I  spent 
on  her,  how  in  absence  I  provided  for  her?  I  would  rather 
throw  my  purse  into  the  ditch,  and  spend  my  time  in  nursing 
mangy  whelps,  than  ever  more  bestow  the  smallest  care  on 
such  a  thing.  Pshaw !  At  first  I  got  letters  of  thanks, 
notice  of  places  she  was  staying  at ;  and,  finally,  no  word  at 
all,  —  not  even  an  acknowledgment  for  the  money  I  had  sent 
to  pay  the  expenses  of  her  lying-in.  Oh  !  the  treachery  and 
the  fickleness  of  women  are  rightly  matched,  to  get  a  com- 
fortable living  for  themselves,  and  to  give  an  honest  fellow 
many  heavy  hours." 


108  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

WILHELM'S  feelings,  on  returning  home  after  this  conver- 
sation, ma}'  be  easily  conceived.  All  his  old  wounds  had 
been  torn  up  afresh,  and  the  sentiment  that  Mariana  was 
not  wholly  unworthy  of  his  love  had  again  been  brought  to 
life.  The  interest  the  old  man  had  shown  about  her  fate,  the 
praises  he  gave  her  against  his  will,  displayed  her  again  in 
all  her  attractiveness.  Nay,  even  the  bitter  accusations 
brought  against  her  contained  nothing  that  could  lower  her  in 
Wilhelm's  estimation ;  for  he,  as  well  as  she,  was  guilty  in 
all  her  aberrations.  Nor  did  even  her  final  silence  seem 
greatly  blamable :  it  rather  inspired  him  with  mournful 
thoughts.  He  saw  her  as  a  frail,  ill-succored  mother,  wan- 
dering helplessly  about  the  world,  —  wandering,  perhaps,  with 
his  own  child.  What  he  knew,  and  what  he  knew  not, 
awoke  in  him  the  paiufullest  emotions. 

Mignon  had  been  waiting  for  him  :  she  lighted  him  up 
stairs.  On  setting  down  the  light,  she  begged  he  would  allow 
her,  that  evening,  to  compliment  him  with  a  piece  of  her  art. 
He  would  rather  have  declined  this,  particularly  as  he  knew 
not  what  it  was  ;  but  he  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse  any  thing 
this  kind  creature  wished.  After  a  little  while  she  again 
came  in.  She  carried  below  her  arm  a  little  carpet,  which 
she  then  spread  out  upon  the  floor.  Wilhelm  said  she  might 
proceed.  She  thereupon  brought  four  candles,  and  placed 
one  upon  each  corner  of  the  carpet.  A  little  basket  of  eggs, 
which  she  next  carried  in,  made  her  purpose  clearer.  Care- 
fully measuring  her  steps,  she  then  walked  to  and  fro  on  the 
carpet,  spreading  out  the  eggs  in  certain  figures  and  posi- 
tions ;  which  done,  she  called  in  a  man  that  was  waiting  in 
the  house,  and  could  play  on  the  violin.  He  retired  with  his 
instrument  into  a  corner :  she  tied  a  baud  about  her  eyes, 
gave  a  signal ;  and,  like  a  piece  of  wheel- work  set  a-going,  she 
began  moving  the  same  instant  as  the  music,  accompanying 
her  beats  and  the  notes  of  the  tune  with  the  strokes  of  a  pair 
of  castanets. 

Lightly,  nimbly,  quickly,  and  with  hair's-breadth  accuracy, 
she  carried  on  the  dance.  She  skipped  so  sharply  and  surely 
along  between  the  eggs,  and  trod  so  closely  down  beside 
them,  that  you  would  have  thought  every  instant  she  must 
trample  one  of  them  in  pieces,  or  kick  the  rest  away  in  her 
rapid  turns.  By  no  means  !  She  touched  no  one  of  them, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  109 

though  winding  herself  through  their  mazes  with  all  kinds  of 
steps,  wide  and  narrow,  nay,  even  with  leaps,  and  at  last 
half  kneeling. 

Constant  as  the  movement  of  a  clock,  she  ran  her  course  ; 
and  the  strange  music,  at  each  repetition  of  the  tune,  gave  a 
new  impulse  to  the  dance,  recommencing  and  again  rushing 
off  as  at  first.  "Wilhelm  was  quite  led  away  by  this  singular 
spectacle  ;  he  forgot  his  cares  ;  he  followed  every  movement 
of  the  dear  little  creature,  and  felt  surprised  to  see  how  finely 
her  character  unfolded  itself  as  she  proceeded  in  the  dance. 

Rigid,  sharp,  cold,  vehement,  and  in  soft  postures,  stately 
rather  than  attractive,  —  such  was  the  light  in  which  it  showed 
her.  At  this  moment  he  experienced  at  once  all  the  emo- 
tions he  had  ever  felt  for  Mignon.  He  longed  to  incorporate 
this  forsaken  being  with  his  own  heart,  to  take  her  in  his 
arms,  and  with  a  father's  love  to  awaken  in  her  the  joy  of 
existence. 

The  dance  being  ended,  she  rolled  the  eggs  together  softly 
with  her  foot  into  a  little  heap,  left  none  behind,  harmed 
none  ;  then  placed  herself  beside  it,  taking  the  bandage  from 
her  eyes,  and  concluding  her  performance  with  a  little  bow. 

Wilhelm  thanked  her  for  having  executed,  so  prettily  and 
unexpectedly,  a  dance  he  had  long  wished  to  see.  He  patted 
her ;  was  sony  she  had  tired  herself  so  much.  He  promised 
her  a  new  suit  of  clothes  ;  to  which  she  vehemently  replied, 
"Thy  color!  "  This,  too,  he  promised  her,  though  not  well 
knowing  what  she  meant  by  it.  She  then  lifted  up  the  eggs, 
took  the  carpet  under  her  arm,  asked  if  he  wanted  any  thing 
further,  and  skipped  out  of  the  room. 

The  musician,  being  questioned,  said,  that  for  some  time 
she  had  taken  much  trouble  in  often  singing  over  the  tune  of 
this  dance,  the  well-known  fandango,  to  him,  and  training 
him  till  he  could  play  it  accurately.  For  his  labor  she  had 
likewise  offered  him  some  money  ;  which,  however,  he  would 
not  accept. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AFTER  a  restless  night,  which  our  friend  spent,  sometimes 
waking,  sometimes  oppressed  with  unpleasant  dreams,  seeing 
Mariana  now  in  all  her  beauty,  now  in  woful  case,  at  one 


110  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

time  with  a  child  on  her  arm,  then  soon  bereaved  of  it,  the 
morning  had  scarcely  dawned,  when  Mignon  entered  with  a 
tailor.  She  brought  some  gray  cloth  and  blue  taffeta ;  signi- 
fj'ing  in  her  own  way  that  she  wished  to  have  a  new  jacket 
and  sailor's  trousers,  such  as  she  had  seen  the  boys  of  the 
town  wear,  with  blue  cuffs  and  tiers. 

Since  the  loss  of  Mariana,  Wilhelm  had  laid  aside  all  gay 
colors.  He  had  used  himself  to  gray,  —  the  garment  of  the 
shades ;  and  only  perhaps  a  sky-blue  lining,  or  little  collar 
of  that  dye,  in  some  degree  enlivened  his  sober  garb.  Mig- 
non, eager  to  wear  his  colors,  hurried  on  the  tailor,  who  en- 
gaged to  have  his  work  soon  ready. 

The  exercise  in  dancing  and  fencing,  which  our  friend  took 
this  day  with  Laertes,  did  not  prosper  in  their  hands.  In- 
deed, it  was  soon  interrupted  by  Melina,  who  came  to  show 
them  circumstantially  how  a  little  company  was  now  of  itself 
collected,  sufficient  to  exhibit  plays  in  abundance.  He  re- 
newed the  proposal  that  Wilhelm  should  advance  a  little 
money  for  setting  them  in  motion  ;  which,  however,  Wilhelm 
still  declined. 

Ere  long  Philina  and  the  girls  came  in,  racketing  and 
laughing  as  usual.  They  had  now  devised  a  fresh  excursion, 
for  change  of  place  and  objects  was  a  pleasure  after  which 
they  always  longed.  To  eat  daily  in  a  different  spot  was 
their  highest  wish.  On  this  occasion  they  proposed  a  sail. 

The  boat  in  which  they  were  to  fall  down  the  pleasant 
windings  of  the  river  had  already  been  engaged  by  the  Ped- 
ant. Philina  urged  them  on :  the  party  did  not  linger,  and 
were  soon  on  board. 

"  What  shall  we  take  to  now?  "  said  Philina,  when  all  had 
placed  themselves  upon  the  benches. 

"The  readiest  thing,"  replied  Laertes,  "were  for  us  to 
extemporize  a  play.  Let  each  take  a  part  that  suits  his 
character,  and  we  shall  see  how  we  get  along." 

"  Excellent !  "  said  Wilhelm.  "  In  a  society  where  there 
is  no  dissimulation,  but  where  each  without  disguise  pursues 
the  bent  of  his  own  humor,  elegance  and  satisfaction  cannot 
long  continue ;  and,  where  dissimulation  always  reigns,  they 
do  not  enter  at  all.  It  will  not  be  amiss,  then,  that  we  take 
up  dissimulation  to  begin  with,  and  then,  behind  our  masks, 
be  as  candid  as  we  please." 

"  Yes,"  said  Laertes  :  "  it  is  on  this  account  that  one  goes 
on  so  pleasantly  with  women ;  they  never  show  themselves 
in  their  natural  form." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  Ill 

"  That  is  to  say,"  replied  Madam  Melina,  "  they  are  not 
so  vain  as  men,  who  conceive  themselves  to  be  always  amia- 
ble enough,  just  as  nature  has  produced  them." 

In  the  mean  time  the  river  led  them  between  pleasant 
groves  and  hills,  between  gardens  and  vineyards ;  and  the 
young  women,  especially  Madam  Melina,  expressed  their 
rapture  at  the  landscape.  The  latter  even  began  to  recite, 
in  solemn  style,  a  pretty  poem  of  the  descriptive  sort,  upon 
a  similar  scene  of  nature ;  but  Philina  interrupted  her  with 
the  proposal  of  a  law,  that  no  one  should  presume  to  speak 
of  any  inanimate  object.  On  the  other  hand,  she  zealously 
urged  on  their  project  of  an  extempore  play.  Old  Boisterous 
was  to  be  a  half-pay  officer ;  Laertes  a  fencing-master,  tak- 
ing his  vacation  ;  the  Pedant,  a  Jew  ;  she  herself  would  act 
a  Tyrolese  ;  leaving  to  the  rest  to  choose  characters  according 
to  their  several  pleasures.  They  would  suppose  themselves 
to  be  a  party  of  total  strangers  to  each  other,  who  had  just 
met  on  board  a  merchant-ship. 

She  immediately  began  to  play  her  part  with  the  Jew,  and 
a  universal  cheerfulness  diffused  itself  among  them. 

They  had  not  sailed  far,  when  the  skipper  stopped  in  his 
course,  asking  permission  of  the  company  to  take  in  a  person 
standing  on  the  shore,  who  had  made  a  sign  to  him. 

"  That  is  just  what  we  needed,"  cried  Philina  :  "  a  chance 
passenger  was  wanting  to  complete  the  travelling-party." 

A  handsome  man  came  on  board  ;  whom,  by  his  dress  and 
his  dignified  mien,  you  might  have  taken  for  a  clergyman. 
He  saluted  the  party,  who  thanked  him  in  their  own  way, 
and  soon  made  known  to  him  the  nature  of  their  game.  The 
stranger  immediately  engaged  to  act  the  part  of  a  country 
parson ;  which,  in  fact,  he  accomplished  in  the  adroitest 
manner,  to  the  admiration  of  all,  —  now  admonishing,  now 
telling  stories,  showing  some  weak  points,  yet  never  losing 
their  respect. 

In  the  mean  time,  every  one  who  had  made  a  false  step  in 
his  part,  or  swerved  from  his  character,  had  been  obliged  to 
forfeit  a  pledge :  Philina  had  gathered  them  with  the  great- 
est care,  and  especially  threatened  the  reverend  gentleman 
with  many  kisses  ;  though  he  himself  had  never  been  at  fault. 
Melina,  on  the  other  hand,  was  completely  fleeced :  shirt- 
buttons,  buckles,  every  movable  about  his  person,  was  in 
Philina's  hands.  He  was  trying  to  enact  an  English  travel- 
ler, and  could  not  by  any  means  get  into  the  spirit  of  his 
part. 


112  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Meanwhile  the  time  had  passed  away  very  pleasantly. 
Each  had  strained  his  fancy  and  his  wit  to  the  utmost,  and 
each  had  garnished  his  part  with  agreeable  and  entertaining 
jests.  Thus  comfortably  occupied,  they  reached  the  place 
where  they  meant  to  pass  the  da}' ;  and  Wilhelm,  going  out 
to  walk  with  the  clerg3*man,  as  both  from  his  appearance  and 
late  character  he  persisted  in  naming  him,  soon  fell  into  an 
interesting  conversation. 

"I  think  this  practice,"  said  the  stranger,  "very  useful 
among  actors,  and  even  in  the  company  of  friends  and 
acquaintances.  It  is  the  best  mode  of  drawing  men  out  of 
themselves,  and  leading  them,  by  a  circuitous  path,  back 
into  themselves  again.  It  should  be  a  custom  with  every 
troop  of  players  to  practice  in  this  manner :  and  the  public 
would  assuredly  be  no  loser  if  every  month  an  unwritten 
piece  were  brought  forward ;  in  which,  of  course,  the  play- 
ers had  prepared  themselves  by  several  rehearsals." 

"  One  should  not,  then,"  replied  our  friend,  "  consider  an 
extempore  piece  as,  strictly  speaking,  composed  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment,  but  as  a  piece,  of  which  the  plan,  action, 
and  division  of  the  scenes  were  given ;  the  filling  up  of  all 
this  being  left  to  the  player." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  the  stranger ;  "  and,  in  regard  to  this 
very  filling  up,  such  a  piece,  were  the  players  once  trained  to 
these  performances,  would  profit  greatly.  Not  in  regard 
to  the  mere  words,  it  is  true ;  for,  by  a  careful  selection  of 
these,  the  studious  writer  may  certainly  adorn  his  work  ;  but 
in  regard  to  the  gestures,  looks,  exclamations,  and  every 
thing  of  that  nature ;  in  short,  to  the  mute  and  half-mute 
play  of  the  dialogue,  which  seems  by  degrees  fading  away 
among  us  altogether.  There  are  indeed  some  players  in 
Germany  whose  bodies  figure  what  they  think  and  feel ; 
who  by  their  silence,  their  delays,  their  looks,  their  slight, 
graceful  movements,  can  prepare  the  audience  for  a  speech, 
and,  by  a  pleasant  sort  of  pantomime,  combine  the  pauses 
of  the  dialogue  with  the  general  whole ;  but  such  a  practice 
as  this,  co-operating  with  a  happy  natural  turn,  and  training 
it  to  compete- with  the  author,  is  far  from  being  so  habitual 
as,  for  the  comfort  of  play -going  people,  were  to  be  de- 
sired." 

"  But  will  not  a  happy  natural  turn,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  as 
the  first  and  last  requisite,  of  itself  conduct  the  player,  like 
every  other  artist,  —  nay,  perhaps  every  other  man,  —  to  the 
lofty  mark  he  aims  at  ?  " 


MEISTEIl'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  113 

"  The  first  and  the  last,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  it  may 
well  be  ;  but,  in  the  middle,  many  things  will  still  be  wanting 
to  an  artist,  if  instruction,  and  early  instruction  too,  have 
not  previously  made  that  of  him  which  he  was  meant  to  be  : 
and  perhaps  for  the  man  of  genius  it  is  worse  in  this  respect 
than  for  the  man  possessed  of  only  common  capabilities ; 
the  one  may  much  more  easily  be  misinstructed,  and  be  driven 
far  more  violently  into  false  courses,  than  the  other." 

"But,"  said  Wilhelm,  "will  not  genius  save  itself,  not 
heal  the  wounds  which  itself  has  inflicted?  " 

"  Only  to  a  very  small  extent,  and  with  great  difficulty," 
said  the  other,  "or  perhaps  not  at  all.  Let  no  one  think 
that  he  can  conquer  the  first  impressions  of  his  youth.  If 
he  has  grown  up  in  enviable  freedom,  surrounded  with  beau- 
tiful and  noble  objects,  in  constant  intercourse  with  worthy 
men  ;  if  his  masters  have  taught  him  what  he  needed  first  to 
know,  for  comprehending  more  easily  what  followed ;  if  he 
has  never  learned  any  thing  which  he  requires  to  unlearn  ;  if 
his  first  operations  have  been  so  guided,  that,  without  alter- 
ing any  of  his  habits,  he  can  more  easily  produce  what  is 
excellent  in  future,  —  then  such  a  one  will  lead  a  purer,  more 
perfect  and  happier,  life,  than  another  man  who  has  wasted 
the  force  of  his  youth  in  opposition  and  error.  A  great  deal 
is  said  and  written  about  education ;  yet  I  meet  with  very 
few  who  can  comprehend,  and  transfer  to  practice,  this  sim- 
ple yet  vast  idea,  which  includes  within  itself  all  others  con- 
nected with  the  subject." 

"  That  may  well  be  true,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "for  the  gener- 
ality of  men  are  limited  enough  in  their  conceptions  to  sup- 
pose that  every  other  should  be  fashioned  by  education, 
according  to  the  pattern  of  themselves.  Happy,  then,  are 
those  whom  Fate  takes  charge  of,  and  educates  according  to 
their  several  natures ! ' ' 

"Fate,"  said  the  other,  smiling,  "is  an  excellent  but 
most  expensive  schoolmaster.  In  all  cases,  I  would  rather 
trust  to  the  reason  of  a  human  tutor.  Fate,  for  whose  wis- 
dom I  entertain  all  imaginable  reverence,  often  finds  in 
Chance,  by  which  it  works,  an  instrument  not  over  manage- 
able. At  least  the  latter  very  seldom  seems  to  execute  pre- 
cisely and  accurately  what  the  former  had  determined." 

"  You  seem  to  express  a  very  singular  opinion,"  said 
Wilhelm. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  other.  "Most  of  what  hap- 
pens in  the  world  confirms  my  opinion.  Do  not  many  inci- 


114  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

dents  at  their  commencement  show  some  mighty  purport, 
and  generally  terminate  in  something  paltry?  " 

"You  mean  to  jest." 

"And  as  to  what  concerns  the  individual  man,"  pursued 
the  other,  "is  it  not  so  with  this  likewise?  Suppose  Fate 
had  appointed  one  to  be  a  good  player ;  and  why  should  it 
not  provide  us  with  good  players  as  well  as  other  good 
things  ?  Chance  would  perhaps  conduct  the  youth  into  some 
puppet-show,  where,  at  such  an  early  age,  he  could  not 
help  taking  interest  in  what  was  tasteless  and  despicable, 
reckoning  insipidities  endurable  or  even  pleasing,  and  thus 
corrupting  and  misdirecting  his  primary  impressions,  —  im- 
pressions which  can  never  be  effaced,  and  whose  influence, 
in  spite  of  all  our  efforts,  cling  to  us  in  some  degree  to  the 
very  last." 

"  What  makes  you  think  of  puppet-shows?"  said  Wilhelm, 
not  without  some  consternation. 

"  It  was  an  accidental  instance :  if  it  does  not  please  you, 
we  shall  take  another.  Suppose  Fate  had  appointed  any 
one  to  be  a  great  painter,  and  it  pleased  Chance  that  he 
should  pass  his  youth  in  sooty  huts,  in  barns  and  stables : 
do  you  think  that  such  a  man  would  ever  be  enabled  to  exalt 
himself  to  purity,  to  nobleness,  to  freedom  of  soul?  The 
more  keenly  he  may  in  his  youth  have  seized  on  the  impure, 
and  tried  in  his  own  manner  to  ennoble  it,  the  more  power- 
fully in  the  remainder  of  his  life  will  it  be  revenged  on  him  ; 
because,  while  he  was  endeavoring  to  conquer  it,  his  whole 
being  has  become  inseparably  combined  with  it.  Whoever 
spends  his  early  years  in  mean  and  pitiful  society,  though  at 
an  after  period  he  may  have  the  choice  of  better,  will  yet 
constantly  look  back  with  longing  towards  that  which  he 
enjoyed  of  old,  and  which  has  left  its  impression  blended 
with  the  memory  of  all  his  young,  and  unreturuing  pleas- 
ures." 

From  conversation  of  this  sort,  it  is  easy  to  imagine,  the 
rest  of  the  company  had  gradually  withdrawn.  Philina,  in 
particular,  had  stepped  aside  at  the  very  outset.  Wilhelm 
and  his  comrade  now  rejoined  them  by  a  cross-path.  Philina 
brought  out  her  forfeits,  and  they  had  to  be  redeemed  in 
many  different  ways.  During  which  business,  the  stranger, 
by  the  most  ingenious  devices,  and  by  his  frank  participation 
in  their  sports,  recommended  himself  much  to  all  the  party, 
and  particularly  to  the  ladies  ;  and  thus,  amid  joking,  singing, 
kissing,  and  railleries  of  all  sorts,  the  hours  passed  away  in 
the  most  pleasant  manner. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  115 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHEN  our  friends  began  to  think  of  going  home,  they 
looked  about  them  for  their  clergyman  ;  but  he  had  vanished, 
and  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

"  It  is  not  polite  in  the  man,  who  otherwise  displayed  good 
breeding,"  said  Madam  Melina,  "  to  desert  a  company  that 
welcomed  him  so  kindly,  without  taking  leave." 

"  I  have  all  the  time  been  thinking,"  said  Laertes,  "  where 
I  can  have  seen  this  singular  man  before.  I  fully  intended 
to  ask  him  about  it  at  parting." 

"  I,  too,  had  the  same  feeling,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  and  cer- 
tainly I  should  not  have  let  him  go,  till  he  had  told  us  some- 
thing more  about  his  circumstances.  I  am  much  mistaken  if 
I  have  not  ere  now  spoken  with  him  somewhere." 

"And  you  may  in  truth,"  said  Philina,  "be  mistaken  there. 
This  person  seems  to  have  the  air  of  an  acquaintance,  be- 
cause he  looks  like  a  man,  and  not  like  Jack  or  Kit." 

' '  What  is  this  ?"  said  Laertes .  ' '  Do  not  we ,  too ,  look  like 
men  ? ' ' 

"  I  know  what  I  am  saying,"  cried  Philina ;  "  and,  if  you 
cannot  understand  me,  never  mind.  In  the  end  my  words 
will  be  found  to  require  no  commentary." 

Two  coaches  now  drove  up.  All  praised  the  attention  of 
Laertes,  who  had  ordered  them.  Philina,  with  Madam  Melina, 
took  her  place  opposite  to  Wilhelm  :  the  rest  bestowed  them- 
selves as  they  best  could.  Laertes  rode  back  on  Wilhelm' s 
horse,  which  had  likewise  been  brought  out. 

Philina  was  scarcely  seated  in  the  coach,  when  she  began 
to  sing  some  pretty  songs,  and  gradually  led  the  conversation 
to  some  stories,  which  she  said  might  be  successfully  treated 
in  the  form  of  dramas.  By  this  cunning  turn,  she  very  soon 
put  her  young  friend  into  his  finest  humor :  from  the  wealth 
of  his  living  imaginative  store,  he  forthwith  constructed  a 
complete  play,  with  all  its  acts,  scenes,  characters,  and  plots. 
It  was  thought  proper  to  insert  a  few  catches  and  songs  ;  they 
composed  them  ;  and  Philina,  who  entered  into  every  part  of 
it,  immediately  fitted  them  with  well-known  tunes,  and  sang 
them  on  the  spot. 

It  was  one  of  her  beautiful,  most  beautiful,  days  :  she  had 
skill  to  enliven  our  friend  with  all  manner  of  diverting  wiles  ; 
he  felt  in  spirits  such  as  he  had  not  for  many  a  month  en- 
joyed. 


116  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Since  that  shocking  discovery  had  torn  him  from  the  side 
of  Mariana,  he  had  continued  true  to  his  vow  to  be  on  his 
guard  against  the  encircling  arms  of  woman ;  to  avoid  the 
faithless  sex ;  to  lock  up  his  inclinations,  his  sweet  wishes,  in 
his  own  bosom.  The  conscientiousness  with  which  he  had 
observed  this  vow  gave  his  whole  nature  a  secret  nourish- 
ment ;  and,  as  his  heart  could  not  remain  without  affection, 
some  loving  sympathy  had  now  become  a  want  with  him.  He 
went  along  once  more,  as  if  environed  by  the  first  cloudy 
glories  of  youth ;  his  eye  fixed  joyfully  on  every  charming 
object,  and  never  had  his  judgment  of  a  lovely  form  been 
more  favorable.  How  dangerous,  in  such  a  situation,  this 
wild  girl  must  have  been  to  him,  is  but  too  easy  to  conceive. 

Arrived  at  home,  they  found  Wilhelm's  chamber  all  ready 
to  receive  them  ;  the  chairs  set  right  for  a  public  reading  ;  in 
midst  of  them  the  table,  on  which  the  punch-bowl  was  in  due 
time  to  take  its  place. 

The  German  chivahy-plays  were  new  at  this  period,  and 
had  just  excited  the  attention  and  the  inclination  of  the  pub- 
lic. Old  Boisterous  had  brought  one  of  this  sort  with  him  : 
the  reading  of  it  had  already  been  determined  on.  They  all 
sat  down :  Wilhelm  took  possession  of  the  pamphlet,  and 
began  to  read. 

The  harnessed  knights,  the  ancient  keeps,  the  true-hearted- 
ness,  honesty,  and  downrightness,  but  especially  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  acting  characters,  were  received  with  the 
greatest  approbation.  The  reader  did  his  utmost,  and  the 
audience  gradually  mounted  into  rapture.  Between  the  third 
and  fourth  acts,  the  punch  arrived  in  an  ample  bowl ;  and, 
there  being  much  fighting  and  drinking  in  the  piece  itself, 
nothing  was  more  natural  than  that,  on  every  such  occurrence, 
the  company  should  transport  themselves  into  the  situation 
of  the  heroes,  should  flourish  and  strike  along  with  them, 
and  drink  long  life  to  their  favorites  among  the  dramatis 
personce. 

Each  individual  of  the  party  was  inflamed  with  the  noblest 
fire  of  national  spirit.  How  it  gratified  this  German  com- 
pany to  be  poetically  entertained,  according  to  their  own 
character,  on  stuff  of  their  own  manufacture  !  In  particular, 
the  vaults  and  caverns,  the  ruined  castles,  the  moss  and  hol- 
low trees,  but  above  all  the  nocturnal  gypsy  scenes,  and  the 
Secret  Tribunal,  produced  a  quite  incredible  effect.  Every 
actor  now  figured  to  himself  how,  erelong,  in  helm  and  har- 
ness, he  ;  every  actress  how,  with  a  monstrous  spreading  ruff, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  117 

she, —  would  present  their  Germanship  before  the  public. 
Each  would  appropriate  to  himself  without  delay  some  name 
taken  from  the  piece  or  from  German  history  ;  and  Madam 
Meliua  declared  that  the  son  or  daughter  she  was  then  ex- 
pecting should  not  be  christened  otherwise  than  by  the  name 
of  Adelbert  or  of  Mathilde. 

Towards  the  fifth  act,  the  approbation  became  more  im- 
petuous and  louder ;  and  at  last,  when  the  hero  actually 
trampled  clown  his  oppressor,  and  the  tyrant  met  his  doom, 
the  ecstasy  increased  to  such  a  height,  that  all  averred  they 
had  never  passed  such  happy  moments.  Melina,  whom  the 
liquor  had  inspired,  was  the  noisiest :  and  when  the  second 
bowl  was  emptied,  and  midnight  near,  Laertes  swore  through 
thick  and  thin,  that  no  living  mortal  was  worthy  ever  more 
to  put  these  glasses  to  his  lips  ;  and.  so  swearing,  he  pitched 
his  own  right  over  his  head,  through  a  window-pane,  out  into 
the  street.  The  rest  followed  his  example ;  and  notwith- 
standing the  protestations  of  the  landlord,  who  came  run- 
ning in  at  the  noise,  the  punch-bowl  itself,  never  after  this 
festivity  to  be  polluted  by  unholy  drink,  was  dashed  into  a 
thousand  shreds.  Philina,  whose  exhilaration  was  the  least 
noticed,  — the  other  two  girls  by  that  time  having  laid  them- 
selves upon  the  sofa  in  no  very  elegant  positions, — mali- 
ciously encouraged  her  companions  in  their  tumult.  Madam 
Melina  recited  some  spirit-stirring  poems  ;  and  her  husband, 
not  too  amiable  in  the  uproar,  began  to  cavil  at  the  insufficient 
preparation  of  the  punch,  declaring  that  he  could  arrange 
an  entertainment  altogether  in  a  different  style,  and  at  last 
becoming  sulkier  and  louder  as  Laertes  commanded  silence, 
till  the  latter,  without  much  consideration,  threw  the  frag- 
ments of  the  punch-bowl  about  his  head,  and  thereby  not  a 
little  deepened  the  confusion. 

Meanwhile  the  town-guard  had  arrived,  and  were  demand- 
ing admission  to  the  house.  Wilhelm,  much  heated  by  his 
reading,  though  he  had  drunk  but  little,  had  enough  to  do, 
with  the  landlord's  help,  to  content  these  people  by  money 
and  good  words,  and  afterwards  to  get  the  various  members 
of  his  party  sent  home  in  that  unseemly  case.  On  coming 
back,  overpowered  with  sleep  and  full  of  chagrin,  he  threw 
himself  upon  his  bed  without  undressing  ;  and  nothing  could 
exceed  his  disgust,  when,  opening  his  eyes  next  morning,  he 
looked  out  with  dull  sight  upon  the  devastations  of  the  by- 
gone day,  and  saw  the  uncleauness,  and  the  many  bad  effects, 
of  which  that  ingenious,  lively,  and  well-intentioned  poeti- 
cal performance  had  been  the  c:iuse. 


118  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AFTER  a  short  consideration,  he  called  the  landlord,  and 
bade  him  mark  to  his  account  both  the  damage  and  the  regu- 
lar charge.  At  the  same  time  he  learned,  not  without  vexa- 
tion, that  his  horse  had  been  so  hard  ridden  by  Laertes  last 
night,  that,  in  all  probability,  it  was  foundered,  as  they  term 
it ;  the  farrier  having  little  hope  of  its  recovering. 

A  salute  from  Philina,  which  she  threw  him  from  her  win- 
dow, restored  him  in  some  degree  to  a  more  cheerful  humor : 
he  went  forthwith  into  the  nearest  shop  to  buy  her  a  little 
present,  which,  in  return  for  the  powder-knife,  he  still  owed 
her ;  and  it  must  be  owned,  that,  in  selecting  his  gift,  he  did 
not  keep  himself  within  the  limits  of  proportional  value.  He 
not  only  purchased  her  a  pair  of  earrings,  but  added  likewise 
a  hat  and  neckerchief,  and  some  other  little  articles,  which 
he  had  seen  her  lavishly  throw  from  her  on  the  first  day  of 
their  acquaintance. 

Madam  Melina,  happening  to  observe  him  as  he  was  de- 
livering his  presents,  took  an  opportunity  before  breakfast 
to  rate  him  very  earnestly  about  his  inclination  for  this  girl ; 
at  which  he  felt  the  more  astonished,  the  less  he  thought  it 
merited.  He  swore  solemnly,  that  he  had  never  once  enter- 
tained the  slightest  notion  of  attaching  himself  to  such  a  per- 
son, whose  whole  manner  of  proceeding  was  well  known  to 
him.  He  excused  himself  as  well  as  possible  for  his  friendly 
and  polite  conduct  towards  her,  yet  did  not  by  any  means 
content  Madam  Melina,  whose  spite  grew  ever  more  deter- 
mined, as  she  could  not  but  observe  that  the  flatteries,  by 
•which  she  had  acquired  for  herself  a  sort  of  partial  regard 
from  our  friend,  were  not  sufficient  to  defend  this  conquest 
from  the  attacks  of  a  lively,  younger,  and  more  gifted  rival. 

As  they  sat  down  to  table,  her  husband  joined  them,  like- 
v.-ise  in  a  very  fretful  humor;  which  he  was  beginning  to 
display  on  many  little  things,  when  the  landlord  entered  to 
announce  a  player  on  the  harp.  "You  will  certainly,"  he 
said,  "  find  pleasure  in  the  music  and  the  songs  of  this  man : 
no  one  who  hears  him  can  forbear  to  admire  him,  and  bestow 
something  on  him." 

"Let  him  go  about  his  business,"  said  Melina:  "I  am 
any  thing  but  in  a  trim  for  hearing  fiddlers,  and  we  have 
singers  constantly  among  ourselves  disposed  to  gain  a  little 
by  their  talent."  He  accompanied  these  words  with  a  sar- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  119 

castic  side-look  at  Philiua :  she  understood  his  meaning, 
and  immediately  prepared  to  punish  him,  by  taking  up  the 
cause  of  the  harper.  Turning  towards  Wilhelm,  "  Shall  we 
not  hear  the  man?  "  said  she  :  "  shall  we  do  nothing  to  save 
ourselves  from  this  miserable  ennui?" 

Melina  was  going  to  reply,  and  the  strife  would  have  grown 
keener,  had  not  the  person  it  related  to  at  that  moment  en- 
tered. Wilhelm  saluted  him,  and  beckoned  him  to  come  near. 

The  figure  of  this  singular  guest  set  the  whole  party  in 
astonishment :  he  had  found  a  chair  before  any  one  took 
heart  to  ask  him  a  question,  or  make  any  observation.  His 
bald  crown  was  encircled  by  a  few  gray  hairs,  and  a  pair  of 
large  blue  eyes  looked  out  softly  from  beneath  his  long  white 
eyebrows.  To  a  nose  of  beautiful  proportions  was  subjoined 
a  flowing,  hoary  beard,  which  did  not  hide  the  fine  shape  and 
position  of  his  lips  ;  and  a  long  dark -brown  garment  wrapped 
his  thin  body  from  the  neck  to  the  feet.  He  began  to  prelude 
on  the  harp,  which  he  had  placed  before  him. 

The  sweet  tones  which  he  drew  from  his  instrument  very 
soon  inspirited  the  company. 

"  You  can  sing,  too,  my  good  old  man,"  said  Philina. 

"  Give  us  something  that  shall  entertain  the  spirit  and  the 
heart  as  well  as  the  senses,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  The  instrument 
should  but  accompany  the  voice ;  for  tunes  and  melodies 
without  words  and  meaning  seem  to  me  like  butterflies  or 
finely  variegated  birds,  which  hover  round  us  in  the  air, 
which  we  could  wish  to  catch  and  make  our  own :  whereas 
song  is  like  a  blessed  genius  that  exalts  us  towards  heaven, 
and  allures  the  better  self  in  us  to  attend  him." 

The  old  man  looked  at  Wilhelm,  then  aloft,  then  gave 
some  trills  upon  his  harp,  and  began  his  song.  It  contained 
a  eulogy  on  minstrelsy, — described  the  happiness  of  min- 
strels, and  reminded  men  to  honor  them.  He  produced  his 
song  with  so  much  life  and  truth,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had 
composed  it  at  the  moment,  for  this  special  occasion.  Wil- 
helm could  scarcely  refrain  from  clasping  him  in  his  arms  : 
but  the  fear  of  awakening  a  peal  of  laughter  detained  him 
in  his  chair ;  for  the  rest  were  already  in  half -whispers  mak- 
ing sundry  very  shallow  observations,  and  debating  if  the 
harper  was  a  Papist  or  a  Jew. 

When  asked  about  the  author  of  the  song,  the  man  gave 
no  distinct  reply ;  declaring  only  that  he  was  rich  in  songs, 
and  anxious  that  they  should  please.  Most  of  the  party  were 
now  merry  and  joyful ;  even  Melina  was  grown  frank  in  his 


120  LEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

way ;  and,  whilst  they  talked  and  joked  together,  the  old  man 
began  to  sing  the  praise  of  social  life  in  the  most  sprightly 
style.  He  described  the  loveliness  of  unity  and  courtesy,  in 
soft,  soothing  tones.  Suddenly  his  music  became  cold,  harsh, 
and  jarring,  as  he  turned  to  deplore  repulsive  selfishness, 
short-sighted  enmity,  and  baleful  division ;  and  every  heart 
willingly  threw  off  those  galling  fetters,  while,  borne  on  the 
wings  of  a  piercing  melody,  he  launched  forth  in  praise  of 
peacemakers,  and  sang  the  happiness  of  souls,  that,  having 
parted,  meet  again  in  love. 

Scarcely  had  he  ended,  when  Wilhelm  cried  to  him,  "  Who- 
ever thou  art,  that  as  a  helping  spirit  comest  to  us  with  a 
voice  which  blesses  and  revives,  accept  my  reverence  and  my 
thanks !  Feel  that  we  all  admire  thee,  and  confide  hi  us  if 
thou  wantest  any  thing." 

The  old  man  spoke  not :  he  threw  his  fingers  softly  across 
the  strings,  then  struck  more  sharply,  and  sang, — 

"  '  What  notes  are  those  without  the  wall, 

Across  the  portal  sounding  ? 
Let's  have  the  music  in  our  hall, 

Back  from  its  roof  rebounding.' 

So  spoke  the  king,  the  henchman  flies: 

His  answer  heard,  the  monarch  cries, 

'  Bring  in  that  ancient  minstrel.' 

'  Hail,  gracious  king!  each  noble  knight, 

Each  lovely  dame,  I  greet  you! 
What  glittering  stars  salute  my  sight! 

What  heart  unmoved  may  meet  you! 
Such  lordly  pomp  is  not  for  me, 
Far  other  scenes  my  eyes  must  see : 

Yet  deign  to  list  my  harping.' 

The  singer  turns  him  to  his  art, 

A  thrilling  strain  he  raises: 
Each  warrior  hears  with  glowing  heart, 

And  on  his  loved  one  gazes. 
The  king,  who  liked  his  playing  well, 
Commands,  for  such  a  kindly  spell, 

A  golden  chain  be  given  him. 

*  The  golden  chain  give  not  to  me; 

Thy  boldest  knight  may  wear  it, 
Who,  'cross  the  battle's  purple  sea, 

On  lion  breast  may  bear  it: 
Or  let  it  be  thy  chancellor's  prize, 
Amid  his  heaps  to  feast  his  eyes; 

Its  yellow  glance  will  please  him.' 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  121 

"  I  sing  but  as  the  linnet  sings, 

That  on  the  green  bough  dwelleth; 
A  rich  reward  his  music  brings, 

As  from  his  throat  it  swelleth: 
Yet  might  I  ask,  I'd  ask  of  thine 
One  sparkling  draught  of  purest  wine, 
To  drink  it  here  before  you.' 

He  viewed  the  wine:  he  quaffed  it  up. 

'  O  draught  of  sweetest  savor ! 
O  happy  house,  where  such  a  cup 

Is  thought  a  little  favor! 
If  well  you  fare,  remember  me, 
And  thank  kind  Heaven,  from  envy  free, 

As  now  for  this  I  thank  you.'  " 

When  the  harper,  on  finishing  his  song,  took  up  a  glass 
of  wine  that  stood  poured  out  for  him,  and,  turning  with  a 
friendly  mien  to  his  entertainers,  drank  it  off,  a  buzz  of  joy- 
ful approbation  rose  from  all  the  party.  They  clapped  hands, 
and  wished  him  health  from  that  glass,  and  strength  to  his 
aged  limbs.  He  sang  a  few  other  ballads,  exciting  more  and 
more  hilarity  among  the  company. 

"Old  man,"  said  Philina,  "dost  thou  know  the  tune, 
*  The  shepherd  decked  him  for  the  dance  '  ?  "  x 

" Oh,  yes !  "  said  he  :  "if  you  will  sing  the  words,  I  shall 
not  fail  for  my  part  of  it." 

Philina  then  stood  up,  and  held  herself  in  readiness.  The 
old  man  commenced  the  tune ;  and  she  sang  a  song,  which 
we  cannot  impart  to  our  readers,  lest  they  might  think  it  in- 
sipid, or  perhaps  undignified. 

Meanwhile  the  company  were  growing  merrier  and  merrier : 
they  had  already  emptied  several  flasks  of  wine,  and  were 
now  beginning  to  get  very  loud.  But  our  friend,  having 
fresh  in  his  remembrance  the  bad  consequences  of  their  late 
exhilaration,  determined  to  break  up  the  sitting ;  he  slipped 
into  the  old  man's  hand  a  liberal  remuneration  for  his 
trouble,  the  rest  did  something  likewise ;  they  gave  him 
leave  to  go  and  take  repose,  promising  themselves  another 
entertainment  from  his  skill  in  the  evening. 

When  he  had  retired,  our  friend  said  to  Philina,  "  In  this 
favorite  song  of  yours  I  certainly  find  no  merit,  either  moral 
or  poetical ;  yet  if  you  were  to  bring  forward  any  proper 
composition  on  the  stage,  with  the  same  arch  simplicity,  the 
same  propriety  and  gracefulness,  I  should  engage  that  strong 
and  universal  approbation  would  be  the  result." 

1  Der  Sctiafer  putztc  sich  mm  Tanz,  —  a  song  of  Goethe's.  —  ED. 


122  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Yes,"  said  Philina :  "it  would  be  a  charming  thing  in- 
deed to  warm  one's  self  at  ice." 

"After  all,"  said  "Wilhelm,  "this  old  man  might  put 
many  a  player  to  the  blush.  Did  you  notice  how  correctly 
the  dramatic  part  of  his  ballads  was  expressed  ?  I  maintain 
there  was  more  living  true  representation  in  his  singing  than 
in  many  of  our  starched  characters  upon  the  stage.  You 
would  take  the  acting  of  many  plays  for  a  narrative,  and  you 
might  ascribe  to  these  musical  narratives  a  sensible  pres- 
ence." 

"You  are  hardly  just,"  replied  Laertes.  "  I  pretend  to 
no  great  skill,  either  as  a  player  or  as  a  singer ;  yet  I  know 
well  enough,  that  when  music  guides  the  movements  of  the 
body,  at  once  affording  to  them  animation  and  a  scale  to 
measure  it ;  when  declamation  and  expression  are  furnished 
me  by  the  composer,  —  I  feel  quite  a  different  man  from  what 
I  do  when,  in  prose  dramas,  I  have  all  this  to  create  for  my- 
self, —  have  both  gesture  and  declamation  to  invent,  and  am, 
perhaps,  disturbed  in  it,  too,  by  the  awkwardness  of  some 
partner  in  the  dialogue." 

"Thus  much  I  know,"  said  Melina:  "  the  man  certainly 
puts  us  to  the  blush  in  one  point,  and  that  a  main  point. 
The  strength  of  his  talent  is  shown  by  the  profit  he  derives 
from  it.  Even  us,  who  perhaps  erelong  shall  be  embarrassed 
where  to  get  a  meal,  he  persuades  to  share  our  pittance  with 
him.  He  has  skill  enough  to  wile  the  money  from  our 
pockets  with  an  old  song,  —  the  money  that  we  should  have 
used  to  find  ourselves  employment.  So  pleasant  an  affair  is 
it  to  squander  the  means  which  might  procure  subsistence  to 
one's  self  and  others." 

This  remark  gave  the  conversation  not  the  most  delightful 
turn.  Wilhelm,  for  whom  the  reproach  was  peculiarly  in- 
tended, replied  with  some  heat ;  and  Melina,  at  no  time  over 
studious  of  delicacy  and  politeness,  explained  his  grievances 
at  last  in  words  more  plain  than  courteous.  "It  is  now  a 
fortnight,"  said  he,  "  since  we  looked  at  the  theatrical  ma- 
chinery and  wardrobe  which  is  lying  pawned  here  :  the  whole 
might  be  redeemed  for  a  very  tolerable  sum.  You  then  gave 
me  hopes  that  you  would  lend  me  so  much ;  and  hitherto  I 
do  not  see  that  you  have  thought  more  of  the  matter,  or 
come  any  nearer  a  determination.  Had  you  then  consented, 
we  should  ere  now  have  been  under  way.  Nor  has  your 
intention  to  leave  the  place  been  executed,  nor  has  your 
taoney  in  the  mean  time  been  spared :  at  least  there  are 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  123 

people  who  have  always  skill  to  create  opportunities  for  scat- 
tering it  faster  and  faster  away." 

Such  upbraidings,  not  altogether  undeserved,  touched  Wil- 
helm  to  the  quick.  He  replied  with  keenness,  nay,  with 
anger ;  and,  as  the  company  rose  to  part,  he  took  hold  of  the 
door,  and  gave  them  not  obscurely  to  understand  that  he 
would  no  longer  continue  with  such  unfriendly  and  ungrate- 
ful people.  He  hastened  down,  in  no  kindly  humor,  and 
seated  himself  upon  the  stone  bench  without  the  door  of  his 
inn ;  not  observing,  that,  first  out  of  mirth,  then  out  of 
spleen,  he  had  drunk  more  wine  than  usual. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AFTER  a  short  time,  which  he  passed  sitting  looking  out 
before  him,  disquieted  by  many  thoughts,  Philina  came  sing- 
ing and  skipping  along  through  the  front  door.  She  sat 
down  by  him,  nay,  we  might  almost  say,  on  him,  so  close  did 
she  press  herself  towards  him :  she  leaned  upon  his  shoulders, 
began  playing  with  his  hair,  patted  him,  and  gave  him  the 
best  words  in  the  world.  She  begged  of  him  to  stay  with 
them,  and  not  leave  her  alone  in  that  company,  or  she  must 
die  of  tedium :  she  could  not  live  any  longer  in  the  same 
house  with  Melina,  and  had  come  over  to  lodge  in  the  other 
inn  for  that  reason. 

He  tried  in  vain  to  satisfy  her  with  denials,  —  to  make  her 
understand  that  he  neither  could  nor  would  remain  any 
longer.  She  did  not  cease  with  her  entreaties ;  nay,  sud- 
denly she  threw  her  arm  round  his  neck,  and  kissed  him  with 
the  liveliest  expression  of  fondness. 

"  Are  you  mad,  Philina?  "  cried  Wilhelm,  endeavoring  to 
disengage  himself;  "to  make  the  open  street  the  scene  of 
such  caresses,  which  I  nowise  merit !  Let  me  go  !  I  can  not 
and  I  will  not  stay." 

"  And  I  will  hold  thee  fast,"  said  she,  "  and  kiss  thee 
here  on  the  open  street,  and  kiss  thee  till  thou  promise  what 
I  want.  I  shall  die  of  laughing,"  she  continued:  "  by  this 
familiarity  the  good  people  here  must  take  me  for  thy  wife  of 
four  weeks'  standing  ;  and  husbands,  who  witness  this  touch- 
ing scene,  will  commend  me  to  their  wives  as  a  pattern  of 
childlike^  simple  tenderness." 


124  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Some  persons  were  just  then  going  by :  she  caressed  him 
in  the  most  graceful  way ;  and  he,  to  avoid  giving  scandal, 
was  constrained  to  play  the  part  of  the  patient  husband. 
Then  she  made  faces  at  the  people,  when  their  backs  were 
turned,  and,  in  the  wildest  humor,  continued  to  commit  all 
sorts  of  improprieties,  till  at  last  he  was  obliged  to  promise 
that  he  would  not  go  that  day,  or  the  morrow,  or  the  next 
day. 

"  You  are  a  true  clod !  "  said  she,  quitting  him ;  "  and  I 
am  but  a  fool  to  spend  so  much  kindness  on  you."  She 
arose  with  some  vexation,  and  walked  a  few  steps,  then 
turned  round  laughing,  and  cried,  "  I  believe  it  is  just  that, 
after  all,  that  makes  me  so  crazy  about  thee.  I  will  but  go 
and  seek  my  knitting-needles  and  my  stocking,  that  I  may 
have  something  to  do.  Stay  there,  and  let  me  find  the  stone 
man  still  upon  the  stone  bench  when  I  come  back." 

She  cast  a  spai'kling  glance  on  him,  and  went  into  the 
house.  He  had  no  call  to  follow  her ;  on  the  contrary,  her 
conduct  had  excited  fresh  aversion  in  him  ;  yet  he  rose  from 
the  bench  to  go  after  her,  not  well  knowing  why. 

He  was  just  entering  the  door,  when  Melina  passed  by,  and 
spoke  to  him  in  a  respectful  tone,  asking  his  pardon  for  the 
somewhat  too  harsh  expressions  he  had  used  in  their  late  dis- 
cussion. u  You  will  not  take  it  ill  of  me,"  continued  he,  "  if 
I  appear  perhaps  too  fretful  in  my  present  circumstances. 
The  charge  of  providing  for  a  wife,  perhaps  soon  for  a  child, 
forbids  me  from  day  to  day  to  live  at  peace,  or  spend  my  time 
as  you  may  do,  in  the  enjoyment  of  pleasant  feelings.  Con- 
sider, I  pray  you,  and,  if  possible,  do  put  me  in  possession 
of  that  stage  machinery  that  is  lying  here.  I  shall  not  be 
your  debtor  long,  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to  yon  while  I  live." 

Our  friend,  unwilling  to  be  kept  upon  the  threshold,  over 
which  an  irresistible  impulse  was  drawing  him  at  that  mo- 
ment to  Philina,  answered,  with  an  absent  mind,  eager  to  be 
gone,  and  surprised  into  a  transient  feeling  of  good  will,  "  If 
I  can  make  you  happy  and  contented  by  doing  this,  I  will 
hesitate  no  longer.  Go  you  and  put  every  thing  to  rights.  I 
shall  be  prepared  this  evening,  or  to-morrow  morning,  to  pay 
the  money."  He  then  gave  his  hand  to  Melina  in  confirma- 
tion of  his  promise,  and  was  very  glad  to  see  him  hastily 
proceed  along  the  street ;  but,  alas !  his  entrance,  which  he 
now  thought  sure,  was  a  second  time  prohibited,  and  more 
disagreeably  than  at  first. 

A  young  man,  with  a  bundle  on  his  back,  came  walking 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  125 

fast  along  the  street,  and  advanced  to  Wilhelra,  who  at  once 
recognized  him  for  Friedrich. 

"  Here  am  I  again  !  "  cried  he,  looking  with  his  large  blue 
eyes  joyfully  up  and  down,  over  all  the  windows  of  the  house. 
"  Where  is  Mamsell?  Devil  take  me,  if  I  can  stroll  about 
the  world  any  longer  without  seeing  her !  " 

The  landlord,  joining  them  at  this  instant,  replied  that  she 
was  above  ;  Friedrich,  with  a  few  bounds,  was  up  stairs  ;  and 
Wilhelm  continued  standing,  as  if  rooted  to  the  threshold. 
At  the  first  instant  he  was  tempted  to  pluck  the  younker 
back,  and  drag  him  down  by  the  hair ;  then  all  at  once  the 
spasm  of  a  sharp  jealousy  stopped  the  current  of  his  spirits 
and  ideas ;  and,  as  he  gradually  recovered  from  this  stupe- 
faction, there  came  over  him  a  splenetic  fit  of  restlessness,  a 
general  discomfort,  such  as  he  had  never  felt  in  his  life 
before. 

He  went  up  to  his  room,  and  found  Mignon  busy  writing. 
For  some  time  the  creature  had  been  laboring  with  great 
diligence  in  writing  every  thing  she  knew  by  heart,  giving 
always  to  her  master  and  friend  the  papers  to  correct.  She 
was  indefatigable,  and  of  good  comprehension  ;  but  still,  her 
letters  were  irregular,  and  her  lines  crooked.  Here,  too, 
the  body  seemed  to  contradict  the  mind.  In  his  usual 
moods,  Wilhelm  took  no  small  pleasure  in  the  child's  atten- 
tion ;  but,  at  the  present  moment,  he  regarded  little  what 
she  showed  him,  —  a  piece  of  neglect  which  she  felt  the 
more  acutely,  as  on  this  occasion  she  conceived  her  work 
had  been  accomplished  with  peculiar  success. 

Wilhelm's  unrest  drove  him  up  and  down  the  passages  of 
the  house,  and  finally  again  to  the  street-door.  A  rider  was 
just  prancing  towards  it,  —  a  man  of  good  appearance,  of 
middle  age,  and  a  brisk,  contented  look.  The  landlord  ran 
to  meet  him,  holding  out  his  hand  as  to  an  old  acquaintance. 
"Ay,  Herr  Stallmeister,"  cried  he,  "have  we  the  pleasure 
to  see  you  again  ?  ' ' 

"  I  am  only  just  going  to  bait  with  you,"  replied  the 
stranger,  "  and  then  along  to  the  estate,  to  get  matters  put 
in  order  as  soon  as  possible.  The  count  is  coming  over  to- 
morrow with  his  lady  ;  they  mean  to  stay  a  while  to  entertain 

the  Prince  von  in  their  best  style  :  he  intends  to  fix 

his  headquarters  in  this  neighborhood  for  some  time." 

"It  is  pity,"  said  the  landlord,  "that  you  cannot  stop 
with  us :  we  have  good  company  in  the  house."  The  hostler 
came  running  out,  and  took  the  horse  from  the  Stattmeister, 


126  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

who  continued  talking  in  the  door  with  the  landlord,  and  now 
and  then  giving  a  look  at  Wilhelm. 

Our  friend,  observing  that  he  formed  the  topic  of  their 
conversation,  went  away,  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
streets. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  the  restless  vexation  of  his  present  humor,  it  came  into 
his  head  to  go  and  see  the  old  harper ;  hoping  by  his  music  to 
scare  away  the  evil  spirits  that  tormented  him.  On  asking 
for  the  man,  he  was  directed  to  a  mean  public  house,  in  a 
remote  corner  of  the  little  town  ;  and,  having  mounted  up- 
stairs there  to  the  very  garret,  his  ear  caught  the  fine  twang- 
ing of  the  harp  coming  from  a  little  room  before  him.  They 
were  heart-moving,  mournful  tones,  accompanied  by  a  sad 
and  dreai'y  singing.  Wilhelm  glided  to  the  door ;  and  as  the 
good  old  man  was  performing  a  sort  of  voluntary,  the  few 
stanzas  of  which,  sometimes  chanted,  sometimes  in  recita- 
tive, were  repeated  more  than  once,  our  friend  succeeded, 
after  listening  for  a  while,  in  gathering  nearly  this  :  — 

"  Who  never  ate  his  bread  with  tears, 

Through  nights  of  grief  who,  weeping,  never 
Sat  on  his  bed,  midst  pangs  and  fears, 
Can,  heavenly  powers,  not  know  you  ever. 

Ye  lead  us  forth  into  this  life, 
Where  comfort  soon  by  guilt  is  banished, 

Abandon  us  to  tortures,  strife ; 
For  on  this  earth  all  guilt  is  punished." 

—  Editor's  Version. 

The  heart-sick,  plaintive  sound  of  this  lament  pierced  deep 
into  the  soul  of  the  hearer.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  old 
man  were  often  stopped  from  proceeding  by  his  tears :  his 
harp  would  alone  be  heard  for  a  time,  till  his  voice  again 
joined  it  in  low,  broken  tones.  Wilhelm  stood  by  the  door ; 
he  was  much  moved ;  the  mourning  of  this  stranger  had 
again  opened  the  avenues  of  his  heart ;  he  could  not  resist 
the  claim  of  sympathy,  or  restrain  the  tears  which  this  woe- 
begone complaint  at  last  called  forth.  All  the  pains  that 
pressed  upon  his  soul  seemed  now  at  once  to  loosen  from 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  127 

their  hold :  he  abandoned  himself  without  reserve  to  the 
feelings  of  the  moment.  Pushing  up  the  door,  he  stood 
before  the  harper.  The  old  man  was  sitting  on  a  mean  bed, 
the  only  seat,  or  article  of  furniture,  which  his  miserable 
room  afforded. 

"  What  feelings  thou  hast  awakened,  in  me,  good  old 
man !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  All  that  was  lying  frozen  at  my 
heart  thou  hast  melted,  and  put  in  motion.  Let  me  not  dis- 
turb thee,  but  continue,  in  solacing  thy  own  sorrows,  to 
confer  happiness  upon  a  friend."  The  harper  was  about 
to  rise,  and  say  something ;  but  Wilhelm  hindered  him,  for 
he  had  noticed  in  the  morning  that  the  old  man  did  not  like 
to  speak.  He  sat  down  by  him  on  the  straw  bed. 

The  old  man  wiped  his  eyes,  and  asked,  with  a  friendly 
smile,  "  How  came  you  hither?  I  meant  to  wait  upon  you 
in  the  evening  again." 

"  We  are  more  quiet  here,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  Sing  to  me 
what  thou  pleasest,  what  accords  with  thy  own  mood  of 
mind,  only  proceed  as  if  I  were  not  by.  It  seems  to  me, 
that  to-day  thou  canst  not  fail  to  suit  me.  I  think  thee  very 
happy,  that,  in  solitude,  thou  canst  employ  and  entertain  thy- 
self so  pleasantly ;  that,  being  everywhere  a  stranger,  thou 
findest  in  thy  own  heart  the  most  agreeable  society." 

The  old  man  looked  upon  his  strings  ;  and  after  touching 
them  softly,  by  way  of  prelude,  he  commenced  and  sang,  — 

"  Who  longs  in  solitude  to  live, 

Ah!  soon  his  wish  will  gain: 
Men  hope  and  love,  men  get  and  give, 

And  leave  him  to  his  pain. 
Yes,  leave  me  to  my  moan! 

When  from  my  bed 

Tou  all  are  fled, 
I  still  am  not  alone. 

The  lover  glides  with  footstep  light: 

His  love,  is  she  not  waiting  there  ? 
So  glides  to  meet  me,  day  and  night, 

In  solitude  my  care, 

In  solitude  my  woe: 
True  solitude  I  then  shall  know 

When  lying  in  my  grave, 

When  lying  in  my  grave, 
And  grief  has  let  me  go." 

We  might  describe  with  great  prolixity,  and  yet  fail  to  ex- 
press the  charms  of,  the  singular  conversation  which  Wilhelm 
carried  on  with  this  wayfaring  stranger.  To  every  obser- 


128  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

vation  our  friend  addressed  to  him,  the  old  man,  with  the 
nicest  accordance,  answered  in  some  melody,  which  awak- 
ened all  the  cognate  emotions,  and  opened  a  wide  field  to  the 
imagination. 

Whoever  has  happened  to  be  present  at  a  meeting  of 
certain  devout  people,  who  conceive,  that,  in  a  state  of  sepa- 
ration from  the  Church,  they  can  edify  each  other  in  a  purer, 
more  affecting,  and  more  spiritual  manner,  may  form  to  him- 
self some  conception  of  the  present  scene.  He  will  recollect 
how  the  leader  of  the  meeting  would  append  to  his  words 
some  verse  of  a  song,  that  raised  the  soul  till,  as  he  wished, 
she  took  wing ;  how  another  of  the  flock  would  erelong  sub- 
join, in  a  different  tune,  some  verse  of  a  different  song ;  and 
to  this  again  a  third  would  link  some  verse  of  a  third  song,  — 
by  which  means  the  kindred  ideas  of  the  songs  to  which  the 
verses  belonged  were  indeed  suggested,  yet  each  passage  by 
its  new  combination  became  new  and  individualized,  as  if  it 
had  been  first  composed  that  moment ;  and  thus  from  a  well- 
known  circle  of  ideas,  from  well-known  songs  and  sayings^ 
there  was  formed  for  that  particular  society,  in  that  particu- 
lar time,  an  original  whole,  by  means  of  which  their  minds 
were  animated,  strengthened,  and  refreshed.  So,  likewise, 
did  the  old  man  edify  his  guest :  by  known  and  unknown 
songs  and  passages,  he  brought  feelings  near  and  distant, 
emotions  sleeping  and  awake,  pleasant  and  painful,  into  a 
circulation,  from  which,  in  Wilhelm's  actual  state,  the  best 
effects  might  be  anticipated. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ACCORDINGLY,  in  walking  back,  he  began  to  think  with 
greater  earnestness  than  ever  on  his  present  situation :  he 
had  reached  home  with  the  firm  purpose  of  altering  it,  when 
the  landlord  disclosed  to  him,  by  way  of  secret,  that  Made- 
moiselle Philina  had  made  a  conquest  of  the  count's  Stall- 
meister,  who,  after  executing  his  commission  at  his  master's 
estate,  had  returned  in  the  greatest  haste,  and  was  even  now 
partaking  of  a  good  supper  with  her  up  in  her  chamber. 

At  this  very  moment  Melina  came  in  with  a  notary :  they 
went  into  Wilhelm's  chamber  together,  where  the  latter, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  129 

though  with  some  hesitation,  made  his  promise  good ;  gave  a 
draft  of  three  hundred  crowns  to  Melina,  who,  handing  it  to 
the  lawyer,  received  in  return  a  note  acknowledging  the  sale 
of  the  whole  theatrical  apparatus,  and  engaging  to  deliver  it 
next  morning. 

Scarcely  had  they  parted,  when  Wilhelm  heard  a  cry  of 
horror  rising  from  some  quarter  of  the  house.  He  caught 
the  sound  of  a  young  voice,  uttering  menacing  and  furious 
tones,  which  were  ever  and  anon  choked  by  immoderate 
weeping  and  howling.  He  observed  this  frantic  noise  move 
hastily  from  above,  go  past  his  door,  and  down  to  the  lower 
part  of  the  house. 

Curiosity  enticing  our  friend  to  follow  it,  he  found  Fried- 
rich  in  a  species  of  delirium.  The  boy  was  weeping,  grind- 
ing his  teeth,  stamping  with  his  feet,  threatening  with 
clenched  fists :  he  appeared  beside  himself  from  fury  and 
vexation.  Mignon  was  standing  opposite  him,  looking  on 
with  astonishment.  The  landlord,  in  some  degree,  explained 
this  phenomenon. 

The  boy,  he  said,  being  well  received  at  his  return  by 
Philina,  seemed  quite  merry  and  contented:  he  had  kept 
singing  and  jumping  about,  till  the  time  when  Philina  grew 
acquainted  with  the  Stcdlmeister.  Then,  however,  this  half- 
grown  younker  had  begun  to  show  his  indignation,  to  slam 
the  doors,  and  run  up  and  down  in  the  highest  dudgeon. 
Philina  had  ordered  him  to  wait  at  table  that  evening,  upon 
which  he  had  grown  still  sulkier  and  more  indignant ;  till  at 
last,  carrying  up  a  plate  with  a  ragout,  instead  of  setting  it 
upon  the  table,  he  had  thrown  the  whole  between  Mademoi- 
selle and  her  guest,  who  were  sitting  moderately  close  to- 
gether at  the  time :  and  the  Stcdlmeister ',  after  two  or  three 
hearty  cuffs,  had  then  kicked  him  out  of  the  room.  He,  the 
landlord,  had  himself  helped  to  clean  both  of  them  ;  and  cer- 
tainly their  clothes  had  suffered  much. 

On  hearing  of  the  good  effect  of  his  revenge,  the  boy  began 
to  laugh  aloud,  whilst  the  tears  were  still  running  down  his 
cheeks.  He  heartily  rejoiced  for  a  time,  till  the  disgrace 
which  he  had  suffered  from  the  stronger  party  once  more 
came  into  his  head,  and  he  began  afresh  to  howl  and  threaten. 

Wilhelm  stood  meditating,  and  ashamed  at  this  spectacle. 
It  reflected  back  to  him  his  own  feelings,  in  coarser  and 
exaggerated  features:  he,  too,  was  inflamed  with  a  fierce 
jealousy ;  and,  had  not  decency  restrained  him,  he  would 
willingly  have  satisfied  his  wild  humor ;  with  malicious  spleen 


130  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

would  have  abused  the  object  of  his  passion,  and  called  out 
his  rival ;  he  could  have  crushed  in  pieces  all  the  people 
round  him ;  they  seemed  as  if  standing  there  but  to  vex 
him. 

Laertes  also  had  come  in,  and  heard  the  story :  he  roguishly 
spurred  on  the  irritated  boy,  who  was  now  asserting  with 
oaths  that  he  would  make  the  Stallmeister  give  him  satisfac- 
tion ;  that  he  had  never  yet  let  any  injury  abide  with  him  ; 
that,  should  the  man  refuse,  there  were  other  ways  of  taking 
vengeance. 

This  was  the  very  business  for  Laertes.  He  went  up 
stairs,  with  a  solemn  countenance,  to  call  out  the  Stall- 
meister in  the  boy's  name. 

"  This  is  a  pleasant  thing,"  said  the  Stallmeister:  "  such 
a  joke  as  this  I  had  scarcely  promised  myself  to-night." 
They  went  down,  and  Philina  followed  them.  "My  son," 
said  the  Stallmeister  to  Friedrich,  "  thou  art  a  brave  lad, 
and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  fight  thee.  Only  as  our  years  and 
strength  are  unequal,  and  the  attempt  a  little  dangerous  on 
that  account,  I  propose  a  pair  of  foils  in  preference  to  other 
weapons.  We  can  rub  the  buttons  of  them  with  a  piece  of 
chalk  ;  and  whoever  marks  upon  the  other's  coat  the  first  or 
the  most  thrusts,  shall  be  held  the  victor,  and  be  treated  by 
the  other  with  the  best  wine  that  can  be  had  in  town." 

Laertes  decided  that  the  proposition  might  be  listened  to : 
Friedrich  obeyed  him,  as  his  tutor.  The  foils  were  produced  : 
Philina  took  a  seat,  went  on  with  her  knitting,  and  looked  at 
the  contending  parties  with  the  greatest  peace  of  mind. 

The  Stallmeister,  who  could  fence  very  prettily,  was  com- 
plaisant enough  to  spare  his  adversary,  and  to  let  a  few 
chalk  scores  be  marked  upon  his  coat ;  after  which  the  two 
embraced,  and  wine  was  ordered.  The  Stallmeister  took  the 
liberty  of  asking  Friedrich's  parentage  and  history ;  and 
Friedrich  told  him  a  long  story,  which  had  often  been  re- 
peated already,  and  which,  at  some  other  opportunity,  we 
purpose  communicating  to  our  readers. 

To  Wilhelm,  in  the  mean  time,  this  contest  completed  the 
representation  of  his  own  state  of  mind.  He  could  not  but 
perceive  that  he  would  willingly  have  taken  up  a  foil  against 
the  Stallmeister,  —  a  sword  still  more  willingly,  though  evi- 
dently much  his  inferior  in  the  science  of  defence.  Yet  he 
deigned  not  to  cast  one  look  on  Philina ;  he  was  on  his  guard 
against  any  word  or  movement  that  could  possibly  betray  his 
feelings :  and,  after  having  once  or  twice  done  justice  to  the 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  131 

health  of  the  duellists,  he  hastened  to  his  own  room,  where  a 
thousand  painful  thoughts  came  pressing  round  him. 

He  called  to  memory  the  time  when  his  spirit,  rich  in  hope, 
and  full  of  boundless  aims,  was  raised  aloft,  and  encircled 
with  the  liveliest  enjoyments  of  every  kind  as  with  its  proper 
element.  He  now  clearly  saw,  that  of  late  he  had  fallen  into 
a  broken,  wandering  path,  where,  if  he  tasted,  it  was  but 
in  drops  what  he  once  quaffed  in  unrestricted  measure. 
But  he  could  not  clearly  see  what  insatiable  want  it  was  that 
nature  had  made  the  law  of  his  being,  and  how  this  want 
had  been  only  set  on  edge,  half  satisfied,  and  misdirected  by 
the  circumstances  of  his  life. 

It  will  not  surprise  us,  therefore,  that,  in  considering  his 
situation,  and  laboring  to  extricate  himself,  he  fell  into  the 
greatest  perplexity.  It  was  not  enough,  that  by  his  friend- 
ship for  Laertes,  his  attachment  to  Philina,  his  concern  for 
Mignon,  he  had  been  detained  longer  than  was  proper  in  a 
place  and  a  society  where  he  could  cherish  his  darling  incli- 
nation, content  his  wishes  as  it  were  by  stealth,  and,  without 
proposing  any  object,  again  pursue  his  early  dreams.  These 
ties  he  believed  himself  possessed  of  force  enough  to  break 
asunder:  had  there  been  nothing  more  to  hold  him,  he  could 
have  gone  at  once.  But,  only  a  few  moments  ago,  he  had 
entered  into  money  transactions  with  Melina :  he  had  seen 
that  mysterious  old  man,  the  enigma  of  whose  history  he 
longed  with  unspeakable  desire  to  clear.  Yet  of  this  too, 
after  much  balancing  of  reasons,  he  at  length  determined,  or 
thought  he  had  determined,  that  it  should  not  keep  him  back. 
"I  must  go."  He  threw  himself  into  a  chair:  he  felt 
greatly  moved.  Mignon  came  in,  and  asked  whether  she 
might  help  to  undress  him.  Her  manner  was  still  and  shy : 
it  had  grieved  her  to  the  quick  to  be  so  abruptly  dismissed 
by  him  before. 

Nothing  is  more  touching  than  the  first  disclosure  of  a 
love  which  has  been  nursed  in  silence,  of  a  faith  grown 
strong  in  secret,  and  which  at  last  comes  forth  in  the  hour  of 
need,  and  reveals  itself  to  him  who  formerly  has  reckoned  it 
of  small  account.  The  bud,  which  had  been  closed  so  long 
and  firmly,  was  now  ripe  to  burst  its  swathings ;  and  Wil- 
helm's  heart  could  never  have  been  readier  to  welcome  the 
impressions  of  affection. 

She  stood  before  him,  and  noticed  his  disquietude.  "  Mas- 
ter!  "  she  cried,  "  if  thou  art  unhappy,  what  will  become  of 
Mignon?"  —  "Dear  little  creature,"  said  he,  taking  her 


132  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hands,  "  them,  too,  art  part  of  my  anxieties.  I  must  go 
hence."  She  looked  at  his  eyes,  glistening  with  restrained 
tears,  and  knelt  down  with  vehemence  before  him.  He  kept 
her  hands  :  she  laid  her  head  upon  his  knees,  and  remained 
quite  still.  He  played  with  her  hair,  patted  her,  and  spoke 
kindly  to  her.  She  continued  motionless  for  a  considerable 
time.  At  last  he  felt  a  sort  of  palpitating  movement  in  her, 
which  began  very  softly,  and  then  by  degrees,  with  increas- 
ing violence,  diffused  itself  over  all  her  frame.  "  What  ails 
thee,  Mignon?  "  cried  he  :  "  What  ails  thee?  "  She  raised 
her  little  head,  looked  at  him,  and  all  at  once  laid  her  hand 
npon  her  heart,  with  the  countenance  of  one  repressing  the 
utterance  of  pain.  He  raised  her  up,  and  she  fell  upon  his 
breast :  he  pressed  her  towards  him,  and  kissed  her.  She  re- 
plied not  by  any  pressure  of  the  hand,  by  any  motion  what- 
ever. She  held  firmly  against  her  heart,  and  all  at  once  gave 
a  cry,  which  was  accompanied  by  spasmodic  movements  of 
the  body.  She  started  up,  and  immediately  fell  down  before 
.him,  as  if  broken  in  every  joint.  •  It  was  an  excruciating 
moment.  "  My  child  !  "  cried  he,  raising  her  up,  and  clasp- 
ing her  fast,  "  my  child,  what  ails  thee?"  The  palpita- 
tions continued,  spreading  from  the  heart  over  all  the  lax 
and  powerless  limbs :  she  was  merely  hanging  in  his  arms. 
All  at  once  she  again  became  quite  stiff,  like  one  enduring 
the  sharpest  corporeal  agony ;  and  soon  with  a  new  vehe- 
mence all  her  frame  once  more  became  alive  ;  and  she  threw 
herself  about  his  neck,  like  a  bent  spring  that  is  closing; 
while  in  her  soul,  as  it  were,  a  strong  rent  took  place,  and 
at  the  same  moment  a  stream  of  tears  flowed  from  her  shut 
ej'es  into  his  bosom.  He  held  her  fast.  She  wept,  and  no 
tongue  can  express  the  force  of  these  tears.  Her  long  hair 
had  loosened,  and  was  hanging  down  before  her :  it  seemed 
as  if  her  whole  being  was  melting  incessantly  into  a  brook 
of  tears.  Her  rigid  limbs  were  again  become  relaxed ;  her 
inmost  soul  was  pouring  itself  forth  ;  hi  the  wild  confusion 
of  the  moment  Wilhelm  was  afraid  she  would  dissolve  in  his 
arms,  and  leave  nothing  there  for  him  to  grasp.  He  held 
her  faster  and  faster.  "  My  child !  "  cried  he,  "  my  child ! 
thou  art  indeed  mine,  if  that  word  can  comfort  thee.  Thou 
art  mine!  I  will  keep  thee,  I  will  never  forsake  thee!" 
Her  tears  continued  flowing.  At  last  she  raised  herself :  a 
faint  gladness  shone  upon  her  face.  "  My  father!  "  cried 
she,  "thou  wilt  not  forsake  me?  Wilt  be  my  father?  I 
am  thy  child!  " 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  133 

Softly,  at  this  moment,  the  harp  began  to  sound  before 
the  door :  the  old  man  brought  his  most  affecting  songs  as 
an  evening  offering  to  our  friend,  who,  holding  his  child  ever 
faster  in  his  arms,  enjoyed  the  most  pure  and  undescribable 
felicity. 


134  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK    HI. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"Dost  know  the  land  where  citrons,  lemons,  grow, 
Gold  oranges  'neath  dusky  foliage  glow, 
From  azure  sky  are  blowing  breezes  soft, 
The  myrtles  still,  the  laurel  stands  aloft  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there  ! 
I  would  with  thee,  O  my  beloved  one,  go  ! 

Dost  know  the  house,  its  roofs  do  columns  bear, 
The  hall  with  splendor  bright,  the  chambers  glare  ? 
Therein  stand  marble  forms,  and  look  at  me: 
What  is't,  poor  child,  that  they  have  done  to  thee  ? 
Dost  know  that  house  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there  ! 
I  would  with  thee,  O  my  protector,  go  ! 

Dost  know  the  mount,  whose  path  with  clouds  is  fraught, 
Where  by  the  mule  through  mist  the  way  is  sought, 
Where  dwell  in  caves  the  dragon's  ancient  brood, 
Where  falls  the  rock,  and  over  it  the  flood,  — 
Dost  know  that  mount  ? 

'Tis  there  !  'tis  there  ! 
Does  lead  our  road  :  O  father,  let  us  go ! " 

—  Editor's  Version. 

NEXT  morning,  on  looking  for  Mignon  about  the  house, 
Wilhelm  did  not  find  her,  but  was  informed  that  she  had 
gone  out  early  with  Melina,  who  had  risen  betimes  to  receive 
the  wardrobe  and  other  apparatus  of  his  theatre. 

After  the  space  of  some  hours,  Wilhelm  heard  the  sound 
of  music  before  his  door.  At  first  he  thought  it  was  the 
harper  come  again  to  visit  him ;  but  he  soon  distinguished 
the  tones  of  a  cithern,  and  the  voice  which  began  to  sing 
was  Mignon's.  Wilhelm  opened  the  door :  the  child  came 
in,  and  sang  him  the  song  we  have  just  given  above. 

The  music  and  general  expression  of  it  pleased  our  friend 
extremely,  though  he  could  not  understand  all  the  words. 
He  made  her  once  more  repeat  the  stanzas,  and  explain 
them:  he  wrote  them  down,  and  translated  them  into  his 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  135 

native  language.  But  the  originality  of  its  turns  he  could 
imitate  only  from  afar :  its  childlike  innocence  of  expression 
vanished  from  it  in  the  process  of  reducing  its  broken  phrase- 
ology to  uniformity,  and  combining  its  disjointed  parts. 
The  charm  of  the  tune,  moreover,  was  entirely  incomparable. 

She  began  every  verse  in  a  stately  and  solemn  manner,  as 
if  she  wished  to  draw  attention  towards  something  wonder- 
ful, as  if  she  had  something  weighty  to  communicate.  In 
the  third  line,  her  tones  became  deeper  and  gloomier ;  the 
words,  "  Dost  know  ?  "  were  uttered  with  a  show  of  mystery 
and  eager  circumspectness ;  in  "'Tis  there!  'tis  there!" 
lay  an  irresistible  longing ;  and  her  "  Let  us  go!"  she  modi- 
fied at  each  repetition,  so  that  now  it  appeared  to  entreat 
and  implore,  now  to  impel  and  persuade. 

On  finishing  her  song  for  the  second  time,  she  stood  silent 
for  a  moment,  looked  keenly  at  Wilhelm,  and  asked  him, 
"  Know'st  thou  the  land?"  —  "It  must  mean  Italy,"  said 
Wilhelm  :  ' '  where  didst  thou  get  the  little  song  ?  "  —  "  Italy ! ' ' 
said  Mignon,  with  an  earnest  air.  "  If  thou  go  to  Italy, 
take  me  along  with  thee  ;  for  I  am  too  cold  here."  —  "  Hast 
thou  been  there  already,  little  dear?"  said  Wilhelm.  But 
the  child  was  silent,  and  nothing  more  could  be  got  out  of 
her. 

Melina  entered  now :  he  looked  at  the  cithern,  -—was  glad 
that  she  had  rigged  it  up  again  so  prettily.  The  instrument 
had  been  among  Molina's  stage-gear :  Mignon  had  begged  it 
of  him  in  the  morning,  and  then  gone  to  the  old  harper. 
On  this  occasion  she  had  shown  a  talent  she  was  not  before 
suspected  of  possessing. 

Melina  had  already  got  possession  of  his  wardrobe,  with 
all  that  pertained  to  it :  some  members  of  the  town  magis- 
tracy had  promised  him  permission  to  act,  for  a  time,  in  the 
place.  He  was  now  returning  with  a  merry  heart  and  a 
cheerful  look.  His  nature  seemed  altogether  changed :  he 
was  soft,  courteous  to  every  one,— nay,  fond  of  obliging,  and 
almost  attractive.  He  was  happy,  he  said,  at  now  being 
able  to  afford  employment  to  his  friends,  who  had  hitherto 
lain  idle  and  embarrassed ;  sorry,  however,  that  at  first  he 
could  not  have  it  in  his  power  to  remunerate  the  excellent 
actors  whom  fortune  had  offered  him,  in  a  style  correspond- 
ing to  their  talents  and  capacities ;  being  under  the  neces- 
sity, before  all  other  things,  of  discharging  his  debt  to  so 
generous  a  friend  as  Wilhelm  had  proved  himself  to  be. 

"I  cannot  describe,"  said  he  to  Wilhelm,  M  the  friendli* 


136  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

ness  which  you  have  shown,  in  helping  me  forward  to  the 
management  of  a  theatre.  When  I  found  you  here,  I  was 
in  a  very  curious  predicament.  You  recollect  how  strongly 
I  displayed  to  you,  on  our  first  acquaintance,  my  aversion  to 
the  stage ;  and  yet,  on  being  married,  I  was  forced  to  look 
about  for  a  place  in  some  theatre,  out  of  love  to  my  wife, 
who  promised  to  herself  much  joy  and  great  applause  if  so 
engaged.  I  could  find  none,  at  least  no  constant  one ;  but 
in  return  I  luckily  fell  in  with  some  commercial  men,  who, 
in  extraordinary  cases,  were  enabled  to  employ  a  person 
that  could  handle  his  pen,  that  understood  French,  and  was 
not  without  a  little  skill  in  ciphering.  I  managed  pretty 
well  in  this  way  for  a  time ;  I  was  tolerably  paid ;  got  about 
me  many  things  which  I  had  need  of,  and  did  not  feel 
ashamed  of  my  work.  But  these  commissions  of  my  patrons 
came  to  an  end  ;  they  could  afford  me  no  permanent  estab- 
lishment :  and,  ever  since,  my  wife  has  continued  urging  me 
still  more  to  go  upon  the  stage  again ;  though,  at  present, 
alas !  her  own  situation  is  none  of  the  f avorablest  for  exhib- 
iting herself  with  honor  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  But 
now,  I  hope,  the  establishment  which  by  your  kind  help  I 
have  the  means  of  setting  up,  will  prove  a  good  beginning 
for  me  and  mine :  you  I  shall  thank  for  all  my  future  happi- 
ness, let  matters  turn  out  as  they  will." 

Wilhelm  listened  to  him  with  contentment:  the  whole 
fraternity  of  players  were  likewise  moderately  satisfied  with 
the  declarations  of  the  new  manager ;  they  secretly  rejoiced 
that  an  offer  of  employment  had  occurred  so  soon,  and  were 
disposed  to  put  up  at  first  with  a  smaller  salary,  the  rather, 
that  most  of  them  regarded  the  present  one,  so  unexpectedly 
placed  within  their  reach,  as  a  kind  of  supplement,  on  which 
a  short  while  ago  they  could  not  count.  Melina  made  haste 
to  profit  by  this  favorable  temper :  he  endeavored  in  a  sly 
way  to  get  a  little  talk  with  each  in  private,  and  erelong 
had,  by  various  methods,  so  cockered  them  all,  that  they  did 
not  hesitate  to  strike  a  bargain  with  him  without  loss  of 
time  ;  scarcely  thinking  of  this  new  engagement,  or  reckon- 
ing themselves  secure  at  worst  of  getting  free  again  after 
six-weeks'  warning. 

The  terms  were  now  to  be  reduced  to  proper  form ;  and 
Melina  was  considering  with  what  pieces  he  would  first  en- 
tice the  public,  when  a  courier  riding  up  informed  the  Stall- 
meister  that  his  lord  and  lady  were  at  hand ;  on  which  the 
latter  ordered  out  his  horses. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  137 

In  a  short  time  after  this,  the  coach  with  its  masses  of 
luggage  rolled  in  ;  two  servants  sprang  down  from  the  coach- 
box before  the  inn ;  and  Philina,  according  to  her  custom, 
foremost  in  the  way  of  novelties,  placed  herself  within  the 
door. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  said  the  countess,  entering  the  house. 

"  An  actress,  at  your  Excellency's  service,"  was  the  an- 
swer ;  while  the  cheat,  with  a  most  innocent  air,  and  looks 
of  great  humility,  courtesied,  and  kissed  the  lady's  gown. 

The  count,  on  seeing  some  other  persons  standing  round, 
who  also  signified  that  they  were  players,  inquired  about  the 
strength  of  their  company,  their  last  place  of  residence, 
their  manager.  "Had  they  but  been  Frenchmen,"  said  he 
to  his  lady,  "  we  might  have  treated  the  prince  with  an  un- 
expected enjoyment,  and  entertained  him  with  his  favorite 
pastime  at  our  house." 

"And  could  we  not,"  said  the  countess,  "  get  these  peo- 
ple, though  unluckily  they  are  but  Germans,  to  exhibit  with 
us  at  the  castle  while  the  prince  stays  there?  Without 
doubt  they  have  some  degree  of  skill.  A  large  party  can 
never  be  so  well  amused  with  any  thing  as  with  a  theatre : 
besides,  the  baron  would  assist  them." 

So  speaking,  they  went  up-stairs ;  and  Melina  presented 
himself  above,  as  manager.  "Call  your  folk  together," 
said  the  count,  "  and  place  them  before  me,  that  I  may  see 
what  is  in  them.  I  must  also  have  the  list  of  pieces  you 
profess  to  act." 

Melina,  with  a  low  bow,  hastened  from  the  room,  and 
soon  returned  with  his  actors.  They  advanced  in  promis- 
cuous succession :  some,  out  of  too  great  anxiety  to  please, 
introduced  themselves  in  a  rather  sorry  style ;  the  others, 
not  much  better,  by  assuming  an  air  of  unconcern.  Philina 
showed  the  deepest  reverence  to  the  countess,  who  behaved 
with  extreme  graciousness  and  condescension :  the  count, 
in  the  mean  time,  was  mustering  the  rest.  He  questioned 
each  about  his  special  province  of  acting,  and  signified  to 
Melina  that  he  must  rigorously  keep  them  to  their  several 
provinces,  —  a  precept  which  the  manager  received  with  the 
greatest  devotion. 

The  count  then  stated  to  each  in  particular  what  he  ought 
especially  to  study,  what  about  his  figure  or  his  postures 
ought  to  be  amended ;  showed  them  luminously  in  what 
points  the  Germans  always  fail ;  and  displayed  such  extraor- 
dinary knowledge,  that  all  stood  in  the  deepest  humility, 


138  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

scarcely  daring  to  draw  their  breath  before  so  enlightened 
a  critic  and  so  right  honorable  a  patron. 

"What  fellow  is  that  in  the  corner?"  said  the  count, 
looking  at  a  subject  who  had  not  yet  been  presented  to  him, 
and  who  now  approached,  —  a  lean,  shambling  figure,  with 
a  rusty  coat,  patched  at  the  elbows,  and  a  woful  periwig 
covering  his  submissive  head. 

This  person,  whom,  from  the  last  Book,  we  know  already 
as  Philina's  darling,  had  been  want  to  enact  pedants,  tutors, 
and  poets,  —  generally  undertaking  parts  in  which  any  cud- 
gelling or  ducking  was  to  be  endured.  He  had  trained  him- 
self to  certain  crouching,  ludicrous,  timid  bows ;  and  his 
faltering,  stammering  speech  befitted  the  characters  he 
played,  and  created  laughter  in  the  audience ;  so  that  he  was 
always  looked  on  as  a  useful  member  of  the  company,  being 
moreover  very  serviceable  and  obliging.  He  approached 
the  count  in  his  own  peculiar  way,  bent  himself  before  him, 
and  answered  every  question  with  the  grimaces  and  gestures 
he  was  used  to  on  the  stage.  The  count  looked  at  him  for 
some  time  with  an  air  of  attentive  satisfaction  and  studious 
observation;  then,  turning  to  the  countess,  "Child,"  said 
he,  "  consider  this  man  well :  I  will  engage  for  it  he  is  a 
great  actor,  or  may  become  so."  The  creature  here,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart,  made  an  idiotic  bow :  the  count  burst 
into  laughing,  and  exclaimed,  "  He  does  it  excellently  well ! 
I  bet  this  fellow  can  act  any  thing  he  likes :  it  is  pity  that 
he  has  not  been  already  used  to  something  better." 

So  singular  a  prepossession  was  extremely  galling  to  the 
rest :  Melina  alone  felt  no  vexation,  but  completely  coincided 
with  the  count,  and  answered,  with  a  prostrate  look,  "  Alas ! 
it  is  too  true :  both  he  and  others  of  us  have  long  stood  in 
need  of  such  encouragement,  and  such  a  judge,  as  we  now 
find  in  your  Excellency." 

"  Is  this  the  whole  company?  "  inquired  the  count. 

"Some  of  them  are  absent,"  said  the  crafty  Meliua; 
"  and  at  any  rate,  if  we  should  meet  with  support,  we 
could  soon  collect  abundant  numbers  from  the  neighbor- 
hood." 

Philina  in  the  mean  while  was  saying  to  the  countess, 
"  There  is  a  very  pretty  young  man  above,  who  without  doubt 
would  shortly  become  a  first-rate  amateur." 

"  Why  does  he  not  appear?  "  said  the  countess. 

"  I  will  bring  him,"  cried  Philina,  hastening  to  the  door. 

She  found  our  friend  still  occupied  with  Mignon  :  she  per- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  139 

suaded  him  to  come  down.  He  followed  her  with  some  re- 
luctance :  yet  curiosity  impelled  him ;  for,  hearing  that  the 
family  were  people  of  rank,  he  longed  much  to  know  more 
of  them.  On  entering  the  room,  his  eyes  met  those  of  the 
countess,  which  were  directed  towards  him.  Philina  led  him 
to  the  lady,  while  the  count  was  busied  with  the  rest.  Wil- 
helm  made  his  bow,  and  replied  to  several  questions  from 
the  fair  dame,  not  without  confusion  of  mind.  Her  beauty 
and  youth,  her  graceful  dignity  and  refined  manner,  made 
the  most  delightful  impression  on  him  ;  and  the  more  so,  as 
her  words  and  looks  were  accompanied  with  a  certain  bash- 
fulness,  one  might  almost  say  embarrassment.  He  was 
likewise  introduced  to  the  count,  who,  however,  took  no 
special  notice  of  him,  but  went  to  the  window  with  his  lady, 
and  seemed  to  ask  her  about  something.  It  was  easy  to  ob- 
serve that  her  opinion  accorded  strongly  with  his  own  ;  that 
she  even  tried  to  persuade  him,  and  strengthen  him  in  his 
intentions. 

In  a  short  while  he  turned  round  to  the  company,  and 
said,  "I  must  not  stay  at  present,  but  I  will  send  a  friend 
to  you ;  and  if  you  make  reasonable  proposals,  and  will 
take  very  great  pains,  I  am  not  disinclined  to  let  you  play  at 
the  castle." 

Ah1  testified  their  joy  at  this  :  Philina  in  particular  kissed 
the  hands  of  the  countess  with  the  greatest  vivacity. 

"  Look  you,  little  thing,"  said  the  lady,  patting  the  cheeks 
of  the  light-minded  girl,  "  look  you,  child,  you  shall  come 
to  me  again  :  I  will  keep  my  promise  ;  only  you  must  dress 
better."  Philina  stated  in  excuse  that  she  had  little  to  lay 
out  upon  her  wardrobe ;  and  the  countess  immediately  or- 
dered her  waiting-maids  to  bring  from  the  carriage  a  silk 
neckerchief  and  an  English  hat,  the  articles  easiest  to  come 
at,  and  give  them  to  her  new  favorite.  The  countess  her- 
self then  decked  Philina,  who  continued  very  neatly  to  sup- 
port, by  her  looks  and  conduct,  that  saintlike,  guiltless 
character  she  had  assumed  at  first. 

The  count  took  his  lady's  hand,  and  led  her  down.  She 
bowed  to  the  whole  company  with  a  friendly  air,  in  passing 
by  them  :  she  turned  round  again  towards  Wilhelm,  and  said 
to  him,  with  the  most  gracious  mien,  "We  shall  soon  meet 
again." 

These  happy  prospects  enlivened  the  whole  party :  every 
one  of  them  gave  fi*ee  course  to  his  hopes,  his  wishes,  his 
imaginations  ;  spoke  of  the  parts  he  would  play,  and  the  ap- 


140  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

plause  he  would  acquire.  Melina  was  considering  how  he 
might  still,  by  a  few  speedy  exhibitions,  gain  a  little  money 
from  the  people  of  the  town  before  he  left  it ;  while  others 
went  into  the  kitchen,  to  order  a  better  dinner  than  of  late 
they  had  been  used  to. 


CHAPTER  H. 

AFTER  a  few  days  the  baron  came,  and  it  was  not  with- 
out fear  that  Melina  received  him.  The  count  had  spoken 
of  him  as  a  critic :  and  it  might  be  dreaded,  he  would  speed- 
ily detect  the  weakness  of  the  little  party,  and  see  that  it 
formed  no  efficient  troop  ;  there  being  scarcely  a  play  which 
they  could  act  in  a  suitable  manner.  But  the  manager,  as 
well  as  all  the  members,  were  soon  delivered  from  their 
cares,  on  finding  that  the  baron  was  a  man  who  viewed  the 
German  stage  with  a  most  patriotic  enthusiasm,  to  whom 
every  player,  and  every  company  of  players,  was  welcome 
and  agreeable.  He  saluted  them  all  with  great  solemnity ; 
was  happy  to  come  upon  a  German  theatre  so  unexpectedly, 
to  get  connected  with  it,  and  to  introduce  their  native  Muses 
to  the  mansion  of  his  relative.  He  then  pulled  out  from  his 
pocket  a  bundle  of  stitched  papers,  in  which  Melina  hoped  to 
find  the  terms  of  their  contract  specified  ;  but  it  proved  some- 
thing very  different.  It  was  a  drama,  which  the  baron  him- 
self had  composed,  and  wished  to  have  played  by  them :  he 
requested  their  attention  while  he  read  it.  "Willingly  they 
formed  a  circle  round  him,  charmed  at  being  able  with  so 
little  trouble  to  secure  the  favor  of  a  man  so  important; 
though,  judging  by  the  thickness  of  the  manuscript,  it  was 
clear  that  a  very  long  rehearsal  might  be  dreaded.  Their 
apprehensions  were  not  groundless  :  the  piece  was  written  in 
five  acts,  and  that  sort  of  acts  which  never  have  an  end. 

The  hero  was  an  excellent,  virtuous,  magnanimous,  and 
at  the  same  time  misunderstood  and  persecuted,  man :  this 
worthy  person,  after  many  trials,  gained  the  victory  at  last 
over  all  his  enemies ;  on  whom,  in  consequence,  the  most 
rigorous  poetic  justice  would  have  been  exercised,  had  he 
not  pardoned  them  on  the  spot. 

While  this  piece  was  rehearsing,  each  of  the  auditors  had 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  141 

leisure  enough  to  think  of  himself,  and  to  mount  up  quite 
softly  from  the  humble  prostration  of  mind,  to  which,  a  little 
while  ago,  he  had  felt  disposed,  into  a  comfortable  state  of 
contentment  with  his  own  gifts  and  advantages,  and,  from 
this  elevation,  to  discover  the  most  pleasing  prospects  in  the 
future.  Such  of  them  as  found  in  the  play  no  parts  adapted 
for  their  own  acting,  internally  pronounced  it  bad,  and  viewed 
the  baron  as  a  miserable  author;  while  the  others,  every 
time  they  noticed  any  passage  which  they  hoped  might  pro- 
cure them  a  little  clapping  of  the  hands,  exalted  it  with  the 
greatest  praise,  to  the  immeasurable  satisfaction  of  the 
author. 

The  commercial  part  of  their  affair  was  soon  completed. 
Melina  made  an  advantageous  bargain  with  the  baron,  and 
contrived  to  keep  it  secret  from  the  rest. 

Of  our  friend,  Melina  took  occasion  to  declare  in  passing, 
that  he  seemed  to  be  successfully  qualifying  himself  for  be- 
coming a  dramatic  poet,  and  even  to  have  some  capacities 
for  being  an  actor.  The  baron  introduced  himself  to  Wil- 
helm  as  a  colleague  ;  and  the  latter  by  and  by  produced  some 
short  pieces,  which,  with  a  few  other  relics,  had  escaped  by 
chance,  on  the  day  when  he  threw  the  greater  part  of  his 
works  into  the  flames.  The  baron  lauded  both  his  pieces  and 
delivery :  he  spoke  of  it  as  a  settled  thing,  that  Wilhelm 
should  come  over  to  the  castle  with  the  rest.  For  all,  at  his 
departure,  he  engaged  to  find  the  best  reception,  comfortable 
quarters,  a  good  table,  applauses,  and  presents ;  and  Melina 
further  gave  the  promise  of  a  certain  modicum  of  pocket- 
money  to  each. 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  this  visit  raised  the  spirits  of  the 
party  :  instead  of  a  low  and  harassing  situation,  they  now  at 
once  saw  honors  and  enjoyment  before  them.  On  the  score 
of  these  great  hopes  they  already  made  merry,  and  each 
thought  it  needless  and  stingy  to  retain  a  single  groschen  of 
money  in  his  purse. 

Meanwhile  our  friend  was  taking  counsel  with  himself 
about  accompanying  the  troop  to  the  castle ;  and  he  found 
it,  in  more  than  one  sense,  advisable  to  do  so.  Melina  was 
in  hopes  of  paying  off  his  debt,  at  least  in  part,  by  this 
engagement ;  and  Wilhelm,  who  had  come  from  home  to 
study  men,  was  unwilling  to  let  slip  this  opportunity  of  ex- 
amining the  great  world,  where  he  expected  to  obtain  much 
insight  into  life,  into  himself,  and  the  dramatic  art.  With 
all  this,  he  durst  not  confess  how  greatly  he  wished  again  to 


142  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

be  near  the  beautiful  countess.  He  rather  sought  to  per- 
suade himself  in  general  of  the  mighty  advantages  which  a 
more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  world  of  rank  and  wealth 
would  procure  for  him.  He  pursued  his  reflections  on  the 
count,  the  countess,  the  baron ;  on  the  security,  the  grace, 
and  propriety  of  their  demeanor :  he  exclaimed  with  rapture 
when  alone,  — 

"  Thrice  happy  are  they  to  be  esteemed,  whom  their  birth 
of  itself  exalts  above  the  lower  stages  of  mankind  ;  who  do 
not  need  to  traverse  those  perplexities,  not  even  to  skirt  them, 
in  which  many  worthy  men  so  painfully  consume  the  whole 
period  of  life.  Far-extending  and  unerring  must  their  vision 
be,  on  that  higher  station  ;  easy  each  step  of  their  progress 
in  the  world.  From  their  very  birth,  they  are  placed,  as  it 
were,  in  a  ship,  which,  in  this  voyage  we  have  all  to  make, 
enables  them  to  profit  by  the  favorable  winds,  and  to  ride  out 
the  cross  ones ;  while  others,  bare  of  help,  must  wear  their 
strength  away  in  swimming,  can  derive  little  profit  from  the 
favorable  breeze,  and  in  the  storm  must  soon  become  ex- 
hausted, and  sink  to  the  bottom.  What  convenience,  what 
ease  of  movement,  does  a  fortune  we  are  born  to  confer  upon 
us  !  How  securely  does  a  traffic  flourish,  which  is  founded  on  a 
solid  capital,  where  the  failure  of  one  or  of  many  enterprises 
does  not  of  necessity  reduce  us  to  inaction !  Who  can  better 
know  the  worth  and  worthlessness  of  earthly  things,  than  he 
that  has  had  within  his  choice  the  enjoyment  of  them  from 
youth  upwards  ?  and  who  can  earlier  guide  his  mind  to  the 
useful,  the  necessary,  the  true,  than  he  that  may  convince 
himself  of  so  many  errors  in  an  age  when  his  strength  is  yet 
fresh  to  begin  a  new  career?  " 

Thus  did  our  friend  cry  joy  to  all  inhabitants  of  the  upper 
regions,  and,  not  to  them  only,  but  to  all  that  were  permitted 
to  approach  their  circle,  and  draw  water  from  their  wells.  So 
he  thanked  his  own  happy  stars,  that  seemed  preparing  to 
grant  this  mighty  blessing  to  himself. 

Melina,  in  the  mean  time,  was  torturing  his  brains  to  get 
the  company  arranged  according  to  their  several  provinces, 
and  each  of  them  appointed  to  produce  his  own  peculiar 
effect.  In  compliance  with  the  count's  injunctions  and  his 
own  persuasions,  he  made  many  efforts  ;  but  at  last,  when  it 
came  to  the  point  of  execution,  he  was  forced  to  be  content, 
if,  in  so  small  a  troop,  he  found  his  people  willing  to  adjust 
themselves  to  this  or  that  part  as  they  best  were  able.  When 
matters  would  admit  of  it,  Laertes  played  the  lover ;  Philina 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  143 

the  lady's  maid ;  the  two  young  girls  took  up  between  them 
the  characters  of  the  artless  and  tender  loved  ones  ;  the  bois- 
terous old  gentleman  of  the  piece  was  sure  to  be  the  best 
acted.  Melina  himself  thought  he  might  come  forth  as  cheva- 
lier ;  Madam  Melina,  to  her  no  small  sorrow,  was  obliged  to 
satisfy  herself  with  personating  young  wives,  or  even  affec- 
tionate mothers';  and  as  in  the  newer  plays,  a  poet  or  pedant 
is  rarely  introduced,  and  still  more  rarely  for  the  purpose  of 
being  laughed  at,  the  well-known  favorite  of  the  count  was 
now  usually  transformed  into  president  or  minister,  —  these 
being  commonly  set  forth  as  knaves,  and  severely  handled  in 
the  fifth  act.  Melina,  too,  in  the  part  of  chamberlain  or  the 
like,  introduced,  with  great  satisfaction,  the  ineptitudes  put 
into  his  hands  by  various  honest  Germans,  according  to  use 
and  wont,  in  many  well-accepted  plays :  he  delighted  in  these 
characters,  because  he  had  an  opportunity  of  decking  himself 
out  in  a  fashionable  style,  and  was  called  upon  to  assume  the 
airs  of  a  courtier,  which  he  conceived  himself  to  possess  in 
great  perfection. 

It  was  not  long  till  they  were  joined  by  several  actors  from 
different  quarters ;  who,  being  received  without  very  strict 
examination,  were  also  retained  without  very  burdensome 
conditions. 

Wilhelm  had  been  more  than  once  assailed  with  persua- 
sions from  Melina  to  undertake  an  amateur  part.  This  he 
declined ;  yet  he  interested  and  occupied  himself  about  the 
general  cause  with  great  alacrity,  without  our  new  manager's} 
acknowledging  his  labors  in  the  smallest.  On  the  contrary, 
it  seemed  to  be  Melina' s  opinion,  that  with  his  office  he  had 
at  the  same  time  picked  up  all  the  necessary  skill  for  carrying 
it  on.  In  particular,  the  task  of  curtailment  formed  one  of 
his  most  pleasing  occupations  :  he  would  succeed  in  reducing 
any  given  piece  down  to  the  regular  measure  of  time,  with- 
out the  slightest  respect  to  proprieties  or  proportions,  or 
any  thing  whatever,  but  his  watch.  He  met  with  great  en- 
couragement ;  the  public  was  very  much  delighted ;  the 
most  knowing  inhabitants  of  the  burgh  maintained,  that  the 
prince's  theatre  itself  was  not  so  well  conducted  as  theirs. 


144  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Ax  last  the  time  arrived  when  the  company  had  to  prepare 
for  travelling,  and  to  expect  the  coaches  and  other  vehicles 
that  were  to  carry  them  to  the  count's  mansion.  Much  alter- 
cation now  took  place  about  the  mode  of  travelling,  and  who 
should  sit  with  whom.  The  ordering  and  distribution  of  the 
whole  was  at  length  settled  and  concluded,  with  great  labor, 
and,  alas!  without  effect.  At  the  appointed  hour,  fewer 
coaches  came  than  were  expected :  they  had  to  accommodate 
themselves  as  the  case  would  admit.  The  baron,  who  followed 
shortly  afterwards  on  horseback,  assigned,  as  the  reason, 
that  all  was  in  motion  at  the  castle,  not  only  because  the 
prince  was  to  arrive  a  few  days  earlier  than  had  been  looked 
for,  but  also  because  an  unexpected  party  of  visitors  were 
already  come :  the  place,  he  said,  was  in  great  confusion ; 
on  this  account  perhaps  they  would  not  lodge  so  comfort- 
ably as  had  been  intended,  —  a  change  which  grieved  him 
very  much. 

Our  travellers  packed  themselves  into  the  carriages  the 
best  way  they  could ;  and  the  weather  being  tolerable,  and 
the  castle  but  a  few  leagues  distant,  the  heartiest  of  the  troop 
preferred  setting  out  on  foot  to  waiting  the  return  of  the 
coaches.  The  caravan  got  under  way  with  great  jubilee,  for 
the  first  time  without  caring  how  the  landlord's  bill  was  to 
be  paid.  The  count's  mansion  rose  on  their  souls  like  a 
palace  of  the  fairies :  they  were  the  happiest  and  merriest 
mortals  in  the  world.  Each  throughout  the  journey,  in  his 
own  peculiar  mode,  kept  fastening  a  continued  chain  of 
fortune,  honor,  and  prosperity  to  that  auspicious  day. 

A  heavy  rain,  which  fell  unexpectedly,  did  not  banish  these 
delightful  contemplations  ;  though,  as  it  incessantly  continued 
with  more  and  more  violence,  many  of  the  party  began  to 
show  traces  of  uneasiness.  The  night  came  on  ;  and  no  sight 
could  be  more  welcome  than  the  palace  of  the  count,  which 
shone  upon  them  from  a  hill  at  some  distance,  glancing 
with  light  in  all  its  stories,  so  that  they  could  reckon  every 
window. 

On  approaching  nearer,  they  found  all  the  windows  in  the 
wings  illuminated  also.  Each  of  the  party  thought  within 
himself  what  chamber  would  be  his  ;  and  most  of  them  pru- 
dently determined  to  be  satisfied  with  a  room  in  the  attic,  or 
some  of  the  side  buildings. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  145 

They  were  now  proceeding  through  the  village,  past  the 
inn.  Wilhelm  stopped  the  coach,  in  the  mind  to  alight  there  ; 
but  the  landlord  protested  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to 
afford  the  least  accommodation :  his  lordship  the  count,  he 
said,  being  visited  by  some  unexpected  guests,  had  imme- 
diately engaged  the  whole  inn ;  every  chamber  in  the  house 
had  been  marked  with  chalk  last  night,  specifying  who  was 
to  lodge  there.  Our  friend  was  accordingly  obliged,  against 
his  will,  to  travel  forward  to  the  castle  with  the  rest  of  the 
company. 

In  one  of  the  side  buildings,  round  the  kitchen  fire,  they 
noticed  several  cooks  running  busily  about,  —  a  sight  which 
refreshed  them  not  a  little.  Servants  came  jumping  hastily 
with  lights  to  the  staircase  of  the  main  door,  and  the  hearts 
of  the  worthy  pilgrims  overflowed  at  the  aspect  of  such 
honors.  But  how  great  was  their  surprise,  when  this  cordial 
reception  changed  into  a  storm  of  curses.  The  servants 
scouted  the  coachman  for  driving  in  hither  ;  they  must  wheel 
out  again,  it  was  bawled,  and  take  their  loading  round  to  the 
old  castle  ;  there  was  no  room  here  for  such  guests  !  To  this 
unfriendly  and  unexpected  dismissal,  they  joined  all  manner 
of  jeering,  and  laughed  aloud  at  each  other  for  leaping  out 
in  the  rain  on  so  false  an  errand.  It  was  still  pouring  ;  no 
star  was  visible  in  the  sky ;  while  our  company  were  dragged 
along  a  rough,  jolting  road,  between  two  walls,  into  the  old 
mansion,  which  stood  behind,  inhabited  by  none  since  the 
present  count's  father  had  built  the  new  residence  in  front  of 
it.  The  carriages  drew  up,  partly  in  the  court-yard,  partly 
in  a  long,  arched  gateway  ;  and  the  postilions,  people  hired 
from  the  village,  unyoked  their  horses,  and  rode  off. 

As  nobody  came  forward  to  receive  the  travellers,  they 
alighted  from  their  places,  they  shouted,  and  searched.  In 
vain !  All  continued  dark  and  still.  The  wind  swept 
through  the  lofty  gate :  the  court  and  the  old  towers  were 
lying  gray  and  dreary,  and  so  dim  that  their  forms  could 
scarcely  be  distinguished  in  the  gloom.  The  people  were  all 
shuddering  and  freezing ;  the  women  were  becoming  fright- 
ened ;  the  children  began  to  cry  ;  the  general  impatience  was 
increasing  every  minute  ;  so  quick  a  revolution  of  fortune, 
for  which  no  one  of  them  had  been  at  all  prepared,  entirely 
destroyed  their  equanimity. 

Expecting  every  minute  that  some  person  would  appear 
and  unbolt  the  doors,  mistaking  at  one  time  the  pattering 
of  rain,  at  another  the  rocking  of  the  wind,  for  the  much- 


146  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

desired  footstep  of  the  castle  bailiff,  they  continued  down- 
cast and  inactive  :  it  occurred  to  none  of  them  to  go  into  the 
new  mansion,  and  there  solicit  help  from  charitable  souls. 
They  could  not  understand  where  their  friend  the  baron  was 
lingering :  they  were  in  the  most  disconsolate  condition. 

At  last  some  people  actually  arrived :  by  their  voices,  they 
were  recognized  as  the  pedestrians  who  had  fallen  behind 
the  others  on  the  journey.  They  intimated  that  the  baron 
had  tumbled  with  his  horse,  and  hurt  his  leg  severely ;  and 
that,  on  calling  at  the  castle,  they,  too,  had  been  roughly  di- 
rected hither. 

The  whole  company  were  in  extreme  perplexity :  they 
guessed  and  speculated  as  to  what  should  now  be  done,  but 
they  could  fix  on  nothing.  At  length  they  noticed  from  afar 
a  lantern  advancing,  and  took  fresh  breath  at  sight  of  it ; 
but  their  hopes  of  quick  deliverance  again  evaporated,  when 
the  object  approached,  and  came  to  be  distinctly  seen.  A 
groom  was  lighting  the  well-known  Stallmeister  of  the  castle 
towards  them :  this  gentleman,  on  coming  nearer,  very 
anxiously  inquired  for  Mademoiselle  Philina.  No  sooner 
had  she  stepped  forth  from  the  crowd,  than  he  very  press- 
ingly  offered  to  conduct  her  to  the  new  mansion,  where  a 
little  place  had  been  provided  for  her  with  the  countess's 
maids.  She  did  not  hesitate  long  about  accepting  his  pro- 
posal ;  she  caught  his  arm,  and,  recommending  her  trunk  to 
the  care  of  the  rest,  was  going  to  hasten  off  with  him  directly : 
but  the  others  intercepted  them,  asking,  entreating,  conjur- 
ing the  Stallmeister ;  till  at  last,  to  get  away  with  his  fair  one, 
he  promised  every  thing,  assuring  them,  that,  in  a  little  while, 
the  castle  should  be  opened,  and  they  lodged  in  the  most 
comfortable  manner.  In  a  few  moments  they  saw  the  glim- 
mer of  his  lantern  vanish :  they  long  looked  in  vain  for 
another  gleam  of  light.  At  last,  after  much  watching,  scold- 
ing, and  reviling,  it  actually  appeared,  and  revived  them  with 
a  touch  of  hope  and  consolation. 

An  ancient  footman  opened  the  door  of  the  old  edifice,  into 
which  they  rushed  with  violence.  Each  of  them  now  strove 
to  have  his  trunk  unfastened,  and  brought  in  beside  him. 
Most  of  this  luggage,  like  the  persons  of  its  owners,  was 
thoroughly  wetted.  Having  but  a  single  light,  the  process 
of  unpacking  went  on  very  slowly.  In  the  dark  passages 
they  pushed  against  each  other,  they  stumbled,  they  fell. 
They  begged  to  have  more  lights,  they  begged  to  have  some 
fuel.  The  monosyllabic  footman,  with  much  ado,  consented 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  147 

to  put  down  his  own  lantern  ;  then  went  his  way,  and  came 
not  again. 

They  now  began  to  investigate  the  edifice.  The  doors  of 
all  the  rooms  were  open :  large  stoves,  tapestry  hangings, 
inlaid  floors,  yet  bore  witness  to  its  former  pomp ;  but  of 
other  house-gear  there  was  none  to  be  seen,  —  no  table,  chair, 
or  miiTor,  nothing  but  a  few  monstrous,  empty  bedsteads, 
stripped  of  every  ornament  and  every  necessary.  The  wet 
trunks  and  knapsacks  were  adopted  as  seats :  a  part  of  the 
tired  wanderers  placed  themselves  upon  the  floor.  Wilhelm 
had  sat  down  upon  some  steps :  Mignon  laj*  upon  his  knees. 
The  child  was  restless  ;  and,  when  he  asked  what  ailed  her, 
she  answered,  "  I  am  hungry."  He  himself  had  nothing 
that  could  still  the  craving  of  the  child :  the  rest  of  the  party 
had  consumed  their  whole  provision,  so  he  was  obliged  to 
leave  the  little  traveller  without  refreshment.  Through  the 
whole  adventure  he  had  been  inactive,  silently  immersed  in 
thought.  He  was  very  sullen,  and  full  of  indignant  regret 
that  he  had  not  kept  by  his  first  determination,  and  remained 
at  the  inn,  though  he  should  have  slept  in  the  garret. 

The  rest  demeaned  themselves  in  various  ways.  Some  of 
them  had  got  a  heap  of  old  wood  collected  within  a  vast,  gap- 
ing chimney  in  the  hall :  they  set  fire  to  the  pile  with  great 
huzzaing.  Unhappily,  however,  their  hopes  of  warming 
and  drying  themselves  by  means  of  it  were  mocked  in  the 
most  frightful  manner.  The  chimney,  it  appeared,  was  there 
for  ornament  alone,  and  was  walled  up  above  ;  so  the  smoke 
rushed  quickly  back,  and  at  once  filled  the  whole  chamber. 
The  dry  wood  rose  crackling  into  flames ;  the  flame  was  also 
driven  back  ;  the  draught  sweeping  through  the  broken  win- 
dows gave  it  a  wavering  direction.  Terrified  lest  the  castle 
should  catch  fire,  the  unhappy  guests  had  to  tear  the  burning 
sticks  asunder,  to  smother  and  trample  them  under  their  feet ; 
the  smoke  increased  ;  their  case  was  rendered  more  intolera- 
ble than  before ;  they  were  driven  to  the  brink  of  despera- 
tion. 

Wilhelm  had  retreated  from  the  smoke  into  a  distant 
chamber,  to  which  Mignon  soon  followed  him,  leading  in  a 
well-dressed  servant,  with  a  high,  clear,  double-lighted  lan- 
tern in  his  hand.  He  turned  to  Wilhelm,  and,  holding  out 
to  him  some  fruits  and  confectionery  on  a  beautiful  porce- 
lain plate,  "The  young  lady  up-stairs,"  said  he,  "sends 
you  this,  with  the  request  that  you  would  join  her  party : 
she  bids  me  tell  you,"  added  the  lackey,  with  a  sort  of  grin, 


148  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  that  she  is  very  well  off  yonder,  and  wishes  to  divide  her 
enjoyments  with  her  friends." 

Wilhelm  had  not  at  all  expected  such  a  message ;  for, 
ever  since  the  adventure  on  the  stone  bench,  he  had  treated 
Philina  with  the  most  decided  contempt.  He  was  still  so 
resolute  to  have  no  more  concern  with  her  that  he  thought 
of  sending  back  her  dainty  gifts  untasted,  when  a  suppli- 
cating look  of  Mignon's  induced  him  to  accept  them.  He 
returned  his  thanks  in  the  name  of  the  child.  The  invita- 
tion he  entirely  rejected.  He  desired  the  servant  to  exert 
himself  a  little  for  the  stranger  company,  and  made  inquiry 
for  the  baron.  The  latter,  he  was  told,  had  gone  to  bed, 
but  had  already,  as  the  lackey  understood,  given  orders  to 
some  other  person  to  take  charge  of  these  unfortunate  and 
ill-lodged  gentlemen. 

The  servant  went  away,  leaving  one  of  his  lights,  which 
Wilhelm,  in  the  absence  of  a  candlestick,  contrived  to  fix 
upon  the  window-casement ;  and  now,  at  least  in  his  medi- 
tations, he  could  see  the  four  walls  of  his  chamber.  Nor 
was  it  long  till  preparations  were  commenced  for  conducting 
our  travellers  to  rest.  Candles  arrived  by  degrees,  though 
without  snuffers ;  then  a  few  chairs ;  an  hour  afterwards 
came  bed-clothes  ;  then  pillows,  all  well  steeped  in  rain.  It 
was  far  past  midnight  when  straw  beds  and  mattresses  were 
produced,  which,  if  sent  at  first,  would  have  been  extremely 
welcome. 

In  the  interim,  also,  somewhat  to  eat  and  drink  had  been 
brought  in :  it  was  enjoyed  without  much  criticism  ;  though 
it  looked  like  a  most  disorderly  collection  of  remains,  and 
offered  no  very  singular  proof  of  the  esteem  in  which  our 
guests  were  held. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  disorders  and  mischievous  tricks  of  some  frolicsome 
companions  still  further  augmented  the  disquietudes  and  dis- 
tresses of  the  night :  these  gay  people  woke  each  other ;  each 
played  a  thousand  giddy  pranks  to  plague  his  fellow.  The 
next  morning  dawned  amid  loud  complaints  against  their 
friend  the  baron,  for  having  so  deceived  them,  for  having 
given  so  very  false  a  notion  of  the  order  and  comfort  that 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  149 

awaited  their  arrival.  However,  to  their  great  surprise  and 
consolation,  at  an  early  hour  the  count  himself,  attended  by 
a  few  servants,  made  his  entrance,  and  inquired  about  their 
circumstances.  He  appeared  much  vexed  on  discovering 
how  badly  they  had  fared  ;  and  the  baron,  who  came  limping 
along,  supported  on  the  arm  of  a  servant,  bitterly  accused 
the  steward  for  neglecting  his  commands  on  this  occasion,  — 
showing  great  anxiety  to  have  that  person  punished  for  his 
disobedience. 

The  count  gave  immediate  orders  that  every  thing  should 
be  arranged,  in  his  presence,  to  the  utmost  possible  conven- 
ience of  the  guests.  While  this  was  going  on,  some  officers 
arrived,  who  forthwith  scraped  acquaintance  with  the  ac- 
tresses. The  count  assembled  all  the  company  before  him, 
spoke  to  each  by  name,  introduced  a  few  jokes  among  his 
observations  ;  so  that  every  one  was  charmed  at  the  gracious 
condescension  of  his  lordship.  At  last  it  came  to  Wilhelm's 
turn.  He  appeared  with  Mignon  holding  by  his  hand.  Our 
friend  excused  himself,  in  the  best  terms  he  could,  for  the 
freedom  he  had  taken.  The  count,  on  the  other  hand,  spoke 
as  if  the  visit  had  been  looked  for. 

A  gentleman,  who  stood  beside  the  count,  and  who,  al- 
though he  wore  no  uniform,  appeared  to  be  an  officer,  con- 
versed with  Wilhelm  :  he  was  evidently  not  a  common  man. 
His  large,  keen  blue  eyes,  looking  out  from  beneath  a  high 
brow ;  his  light-colored  hair,  thrown  carelessly  back ;  his 
middle  stature  ;  every  thing  about  him,  —  showed  an  active, 
firm,  and  decisive  mode  of  being.  His  questions  were  lively. 
He  seemed  to  be  at  home  in  all  that  he  inquired  about. 

Wilhelm  asked  the  baron  what  this  person  was,  but  found 
that  he  had  little  good  to  say  of  him.  "  He  held  the  rank 
of  major,  was  the  special  favorite  of  the  prince ;  managed 
his  most  secret  affairs ;  was,  in  short,  regarded  as  his  right 
arm, — nay,  there  was  reason  to  believe  him  the  prince's 
natural  son.  He  had  been  on  embassies  in  France,  Eng- 
land, Italy.  In  all  those  places  he  had  greatly  distinguished 
himself,  by  which  means  he  was  grown  conceited  ;  imagin- 
ing, among  other  pretensions,  that  he  thoroughly  understood 
the  literature  of  Germany,  and  allowing  himself  to  vent  all 
kinds  of  sorry  jests  upon  it.  He,  the  baron,  was  in  the  habit 
of  avoiding  all  intercourse  with  him ;  and  Wilhelm  would 
do  well  to  imitate  that  conduct,  for  it  somehow  happened 
that  no  one  could  be  near  him  without  being  punished  for  it. 
He  was  called  Jarno,  though  nobody  knew  rightly  what  to 
make  of  such  a  name." 


150  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

Wilhelm  had  nothing  to  urge  against  all  this :  he  had  felt 
a  sort  of  inclination  for  the  stranger,  though  he  noticed  in 
him  something  cold  and  repulsive. 

The  company  being  arranged  and  distributed  throughout 
the  castle,  Molina  issued  the  strictest  orders  that  they  should 
behave  themselves  with  decency,  the  women  live  in  a  sepa- 
rate quarter,  and  each  direct  his  whole  attention  to  the  study 
of  dramatic  art,  and  of  the  characters  he  had  to  play.  He 
posted  up  written  ordinances,  consisting  of  many  articles, 
upon  all  the  doors.  He  settled  the  amount  of  fine  which 
should  be  levied  upon  each  transgressor,  and  put  into  a  com- 
mon box. 

This  edict  was  but  little  heeded.  Young  officers  went  out 
and  in ;  they  jested,  not  in  the  most  modest  fashion,  with 
the  actresses  ;  made  game  of  the  actors,  and  annihilated  the 
whole  system  of  police  before  it  had  the  smallest  time  to 
take  root  in  the  community.  The  people  ran  chasing  one 
another  through  the  rooms  ;  they  changed  clothes  ;  they  dis- 
guised themselves.  Melina,  attempting  to  be  rigorous  with 
a  few  at  first,  was  exasperated  by  every  sort  of  insolence ; 
and,  when  the  count  soon  after  sent  for  him  to  come  and 
view  the  place  where  his  theatre  was  to  be  erected,  mat- 
ters grew  worse  and  worse.  The  young  gentry  devised  a 
thousand  broad  jokes  :  by  the  help  of  some  actors,  the3r  be- 
came yet  coarser.  It  seemed  as  if  the  old  castle  had  been 
altogether  given  up  to  an  infuriate  host,  and  the  racket  did 
not  end  till  dinner. 

Meanwhile,  the  count  had  led  Melina  over  to  a  large  hall, 
which,  though  belonging  to  the  old  castle,  communicated  by 
a  gallery  with  the  new  one :  it  seemed  very  well  adapted  for 
being  changed  into  a  little  theatre.  Here  the  sagacious  lord 
of  the  mansion  pointed  out  in  person  how  he  wanted  every 
thing  to  be. 

The  labor  now  commenced  in  the  greatest  haste  ;  the  stage 
apparatus  was  erected  and  furbished  up ;  what  decorations 
they  had  brought  along  with  them  and  could  employ  were 
set  in  order,  and  what  was  wanting  was  prepared  by  some 
skilful  workmen  of  the  count's.  Wilhelm  likewise  put  his 
hand  to  the  business ;  he  assisted  in  settling  the  perspec- 
tive, in  laying  off  the  outlines  of  the  scenery :  he  was  very 
anxious  that  nothing  should  be  executed  clumsily.  The 
count,  who  frequently  came  in  to  inspect  their  progress, 
was  highly  satisfied :  he  showed  particularly  how  they  should 
proceed  in  every  case,  displaying  an  uncommon  knowledge 
of  all  the  arts  they  were  concerned  with. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  151 

Next  began  the  business  of  rehearsing,  in  good  earnest ; 
and  there  would  have  been  enough  of  space  and  leisure  for 
this  undertaking,  had  the  actors  not  continually  been  inter- 
rupted by  the  presence  of  visitors.  Some  new  guests  were 
daily  arriving,  and  each  insisted  on  viewing  the  operations 
of  the  company. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  baron  had,  for  several  days,  been  cheering  Wilhelm 
with  the  hope  of  being  formally  presented  to  the  countess. 
"  I  have  told  this  excellent  lady,"  said  he,  "  so  much  about 
the  talent  and  fine  sentiment  displayed  in  your  compositions, 
that  she  feels  quite  impatient  to  see  you,  and  hear  one  or  two 
of  them  read.  Be  prepared,  therefore,  to  come  over  at  a 
moment's  notice  ;  for,  the  first  morning  she  is  at  leisure,  you 
will  certainly  be  called  on."  He  then  pointed  out  to  him 
the  afterpiece  it  would  be  proper  to  produce  on  that  occa- 
sion ;  adding,  that  doubtless  it  would  recommend  him  to  no 
usual  degree  of  favor.  The  lady,  he  declared,  was  ex- 
tremely sorry  that  a  guest  like  him  had  happened  to  arrive 
at  a  time  of  such  confusion,  when  they  could  not  entertain 
him  in  a  style  more  suitable  to  his  merits  and  their  own 
wishes. 

In  consequence  of  this  information,  Wilhelm,  with  the 
most  sedulous  attention,  set  about  preparing  the  piece, 
which  was  to  usher  him  into  the  great  world.  "  Hitherto," 
said  he,  "  thou  hast  labored  in  silence  for  thyself,  applauded 
only  by  a  small  circle  of  friends.  Thou  hast  for  a  time 
despaired  of  thy  abilities,  and  are  yet  full  of  anxious  doubts 
whether  even  thy  present  path  is  the  right  one,  and  whether 
thy  talent  for  the  stage  at  all  corresponds  with  thy  inclina- 
tion for  it.  In  the  hearing  of  such  practised  judges,  in  the 
closet  where  no  illusion  can  take  place,  the  attempt  is  far 
more  hazardous  than  elsewhere ;  and  yet  I  would  not  will- 
ingly recoil  from  the  experiment:  I  could  wish  to  add 
this  pleasure  to  my  former  enjoyments,  and,  if  it  might 
be,  to  give  extension  and  stability  to  my  hopes  from  the 
future." 

He  accordingly  went  through  some  pieces  ;  read  them  with 
the  keenest  critical  eye ;  made  corrections  here  and  there ; 


152  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

recited  them  aloud,  that  he  might  be  perfect  in  his  tones  and 
expression  :  and  finally  selected  the  work  which  he  was  best 
acquainted  with,  and  hoped  to  gain  most  honor  by.  He  put 
it  in  his  pocket,  one  morning,  on  being  summoned  to  attend 
the  countess. 

The  baron  had  assured  him  that  there  would  be  no  one 
present  but  the  lady  herself  and  a  worthy  female  friend  of 

hers.  On  entering  the  chamber,  the  Baroness  von  C 

advanced  with  great  friendliness  to  meet  him,  expressed 
her  happiness  at  gaining  his  acquaintance,  and  introduced 
him  to  the  countess,  who  was  then  under  the  hands  of  her 
hair-dresser.  The  countess  received  him  with  kind  words 
and  looks.  But  it  vexed  him  to  see  Philina  kneeling  at  her 
chair,  and  playing  a  thousand  fooleries.  "  The  poor  child," 
said  the  baroness,  "  has  just  been  singing  to  us.  Finish 
the  song  you  were  in  the  midst  of :  we  should  not  like  to 
lose  it." 

Wilhelm  listened  to  her  quavering  with  great  patience, 
being  anxious  for  the  friseur's  departure  before  he  should 
begin  to  read.  They  offered  him  a  cup  of  chocolate,  the 
baroness  herself  handing  him  the  biscuit.  Yet,  in  spite  of 
these  civilities,  he  relished  not  his  breakfast :  he  was  long- 
ing too  eagerly  to  lay  before  the  lovely  countess  some  per- 
formance that  might  interest  and  gratify  her.  Philina,  too, 
stood  somewhat  in  his  way :  on  former  occasions,  while 
listening  to  him,  she  had  more  than  once  been  troublesome. 
He  looked  at  the  friseur  with  a  painful  feeling,  hoping 
every  moment  that  the  tower  of  curls  would  be  complete. 

Meanwhile  the  count  came  in,  and  began  to  talk  of  the 
fresh  visitors  he  was  expecting,  of  the  day's  occupations  or 
amusements,  and  of  various  domestic  matters  that  were 
started.  On  his  retiring,  some  officers  sent  to  ask  permis- 
sion of  the  countess  to  pay  their  respects  to  her,  as  they  had 
to  leave  the  castle  before  dinner.  The  footman  having  come 
to  his  post  at  the  door,  she  permitted  him  to  usher  in  the 
gentlemen. 

The  baroness,  amid  these  interruptions,  took  pains  to 
entertain  our  friend,  and  showed  him  much  consideration  ; 
all  which  he  accepted  with  becoming  reverence,  though  not 
without  a  little  absence  of  mind.  He  often  felt  for  the 
manuscript  in  his  pocket,  and  hoped  for  his  deliverance 
every  instant.  He  was  almost  losing  patience,  when  a  man- 
milliner  was  introduced,  and  immediately  began  without 
mercy  to  open  his  papers,  bags,  and  bandboxes ;  pressing 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  153 

all  his  various  wares  upon  the  ladies,  with  an  importunity 
peculiar  to  that  species  of  creature. 

The  company  increased.  The  baroness  cast  a  look  at 
Wilhelm,  and  then  whispered  with  the  countess  :  he  noticed 
this,  but  did  not  understand  the  purpose  of  it.  The  whole, 
however,  became  clear  enough,  when,  after  an  hour  of  pain- 
ful and  fruitless  endurance,  he  went  away.  He  then  found 
a  beautiful  pocket-book,  of  English  manufacture,  in  his 
pocket.  The  baroness  had  dexterously  put  it  there  without 
his  notice ;  and  soon  afterwards  the  countess's  little  black 
came  out,  and  handed  him  an  elegantly  flowered  waistcoat, 
without  very  clearly  saying  whence  it  came. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THIS  mingled  feeling  of  vexation  and  gratitude  spoiled  the 
remainder  of  his  day  ;  till,  towards  evening,  he  once  more 
found  employment.  Melina  informed  him  that  the  count 
had  been  speaking  of  a  little  prelude,  which  he  wished  to 
have  produced  in  honor  of  the  prince,  on  the  day  of  his 
Highness's  arrival.  He  meant  to  have  the  great  qualities  of 
this  noble  hero  and  philanthropist  personified  in  the  piece. 
These  Virtues  were  to  advance  together,  to  recite  his  praises, 
and  finally  to  encircle  his  bust  with  garlands  of  flowers  and 
laurels;  behind  which  a  transparency  might  be  inserted, 
representing  the  princely  Hat,  and  his  name  illuminated  on 
it.  The  count,  Melina  said,  had  ordered  him  to  take  charge 
of  getting  ready  the  verses  and  other  arrangements ;  and 
Wilhelm,  he  hoped,  to  whom  it  must  be  an  easy  matter, 
would  stand  by  him  on  this  occasion. 

"What!"  exclaimed  our  friend,  in  a  splenetic  tone, 
"  have  we  nothing  but  portraits,  illuminated  names,  and 
allegorical  figures,  to  show  in  honor  of  a  prince,  who,  in  my 
opinion,  merits  quite  a  different  eulogy?  How  can  it  flatter 
any  reasonable  man  to  see  himself  set  up  in  effigy,  and  his 
name  glimmering  on  oiled  paper?  I  am  very  much  afraid 
that  your  allegories,  particularly  in  the  present  state  of  the 
wardrobe,  will  furnish  occasion  for  many  ambiguities  and 
jestings.  If  you  mean,  however,  to  compose  the  play,  or 
have  it  composed,  I  can  have  nothing  to  object;  only  I 
desire  to  have  no  part  or  lot  in  the  matter." 


154  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

Melina  excused  himself  ;  alleging  this  to  be  only  a  casual 
hint  of  his  lordship  the  count,  who  for  the  rest  had  left 
the  arrangement  of  the  piece  entirely  in  their  own  hands. 
"  With  all  my  heart,"  replied  our  friend,  "  will  I  contribute 
something  to  the  pleasure  of  this  noble  family :  my  Muse 
has  never  had  so  pleasant  an  employment  as  to  sing,  though 
in  broken  numbers,  the  praises  of  a  prince  who  merits  so 
much  veneration.  I  will  think  of  the  matter:  perhaps  I 
may  be  able  to  contrive  some  way  of  bringing  out  our  little 
troop,  so  as  at  least  to  produce  some  effect." 

From  this  moment  Wilhelm  eagerly  reflected  on  his 
undertaking.  Before  going  to  sleep  he  had  got  it  all  re- 
duced to  some  degree  of  order ;  early  next  morning  his  plan 
was  ready,  the  scenes  laid  out ;  a  few  of  the  most  stiiking 
passages  and  songs  were  even  versified  and  written  clown. 

As  soon  as  he  was  dressed,  our  friend  made  haste  to  wait 
upon  the  baron,  to  submit  the  plan  to  his  inspection,  and 
take  his  advice  upon  certain  points  connected  with  it.  The 
baron  testified  his  approbation  of  it,  but  not  without  con- 
siderable surprise.  For,  on  the  previous  evening,  he  had 
heard  his  lordship  talk  of  having  ordered  some  quite  differ- 
ent piece  to  be  prepared  and  versified. 

"To  me  it  seems  improbable,"  replied  our  friend,  "that 
it  could  be  his  lordship's  wish  to  have  the  piece  got  ready, 
exactly  as  he  gave  it  to  Melina.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  he 
intended  merely  to  point  out  to  us  from  a  distance  the  path 
we  were  to  follow.  The  amateur  and  critic  shows  the  artist 
what  is  wanted,  and  then  leaves  to  him  the  care  of  produ- 
cing it  by  his  own  means." 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  baron:  "his  lordship  under- 
stands that  the  piece  shall  be  composed  according  to  that  and 
no  other  plan  which  he  has  himself  prescribed.  Yours  has, 
indeed,  a  remote  similarity  with  his  idea  ;  but  if  we  mean  to 
accomplish  our  purpose,  and  get  the  count  diverted  from  his 
first  thought,  we  shall  need  to  employ  the  ladies  in  the  mat- 
ter. The  baroness  especially  contrives  to  execute  such 
operations  in  the  most  masterly  manner :  the  question  is 
now,  whether  your  plan  shall  so  please  her,  that  she  will 
undertake  the  business ;  in  that  case  it  will  certainly  suc- 
ceed." 

"  We  need  the  assistance  of  the  ladies,"  said  our  friend, 
"  at  any  rate ;  for  neither  our  company  nor  our  wardrobe 
would  suffice  without  them.  I  have  counted  on  some  pretty 
children,  that  are  running  up  and  down  the  house,  and  belong 
to  certain  of  the  servants." 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  155 

He  then  desired  the  baron  to  communicate  his  plan  to  the 
ladies.  The  baron  soon  returned  with  intelligence  that  they 
wished  to  speak  with  Wilhelm  personally.  That  same  even- 
ing, when  the  gentlemen  sat  down  to  play,  which,  owing  to 
the  arrival  of  a  certain  general,  was  expected  to  be  deeper 
and  keener  than  usual,  the  countess  and  her  friend,  under 
pretext  of  some  indisposition,  would  retire  to  their  chamber, 
where  Wilhelm,  being  introduced  by  a  secret  staircase,  might 
submit  his  project  without  interruption.  This  sort  of  mys- 
tery, the  baron  said,  would  give  the  adventure  a  peculiar 
charm ;  in  particular  the  baroness  was  rejoicing  like  a  child 
in  the  prospect  of  their  rendezvous,  and  the  more  so,  be- 
cause it  was  to  be  accomplished  secretly,  and  against  the  in- 
clination of  the  count. 

Towards  evening,  at  the  appointed  time,  Wilhelm  was  sent 
for,  and  led  in  with  caution.  As  the  baroness  advanced  to 
meet  him  in  a  small  cabinet,  the  manner  of  their  interview 
brought  former  happy  scenes  for  a  moment  to  his  mind.  She 
conducted  him  along  to  the  countess's  chamber,  and  they 
now  proceeded  earnestly  to  question  and  investigate.  He 
exhibited  his  plan  with  the  utmost  warmth  and  vivacity,  so 
that  his  fair  audience  were  quite  decided  in  its  favor.  Our 
readers  also  will  permit  us  to  present  a  brief  sketch  of  it 
here. 

The  play  was  to  open  with  a  dance  of  children  in  some 
rural  scene,  —  then*  dance  representing  that  particular  game 
wherein  each  has  to  wheel  round,  and  gain  the  other's  place. 
This  was  to  be  followed  by  several  variations  of  their  play ; 
till  at  last,  in  performing  a  dance  of  the  repeating  kind,  they 
were  all  to  sing  a  merry  song. 

Here  the  old  harper  with  Mignon  was  to  enter,  and,  by  the 
curiosity  which  they  excited,  gather  several  country-people 
round  them ;  the  harper  would  sing  various  songs  in  praise 
of  peace,  repose,  and  joy ;  and  Mignon  would  then  dance 
the  egg-dance. 

In  these  innocent  delights,  they  are  disturbed  by  the  sound 
of  martial  music ;  and  the  party  are  surprised  by  a  troop  of 
soldiers.  The  men  stand  on  the  defensive,  and  are  over- 
come :  the  girls  flee,  and  are  overtaken.  In  the  tumult  all 
seems  going  to  destruction,  when  a  person  (about  whose 
form  and  qualities  the  poet  was  not  yet  determined)  enters, 
and,  by  signifying  that  the  general  is  near,  restores  compos- 
ure. Whereupon  the  hero's  character  is  painted  in  the  finest 
colors ;  security  is  promised  in  the  midst  of  arms ;  violence 


156  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

and  lawless  disorder  are  now  to  be  restrained.  A  universal 
festival  is  held  in  honor  of  the  noble-minded  captain. 

The  countess  and  her  friend  expressed  great  satisfaction 
with  the  plan ;  only  they  maintained  that  there  must  of 
necessity  be  something  of  allegory  introduced,  to  make  it 
palatable  to  his  lordship.  The  baron  proposed  that  the 
leader  of  the  soldiers  should  be  represented  as  the  Genius  of 
Dissension  and  Violence  ;  that  Minerva  should  then  advance 
to  bind  fetters  on  him,  to  give  notice  of  the  hero's  approach, 
and  celebrate  his  praise.  The  baroness  undertook  the  task 
of  persuading  the  count  that  this  plan  was  the  one  proposed 
by  himself,  with  a  few  alterations ;  at  the  same  time  ex- 
pressly stipulating,  that  without  fail,  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  piece,  the  bust,  the  illuminated  name,  and  the  princely 
Hat  should  be  exhibited  in  due  order ;  since  otherwise,  her 
attempt  was  vain. 

Wilhelm  had  already  figured  in  his  mind  how  delicately  and 
how  nobly  he  would  have  the  praises  of  his  hero  celebrated  in 
the  mouth  of  Minerva,  and  it  was  not  without  a  long 
struggle  that  he  yielded  in  this  point.  Yet  he  felt  himself 
delightfully  constrained  to  yield.  The  beautiful  e}-es  of  the 
countess,  and  her  lovely  demeanor,  would  easily  have  moved 
him  to  sin  against  his  conscience  as  a  poet ;  to  abandon  the 
finest  and  most  interesting  invention,  the  keenly  wished-for 
unity  of  his  composition,  and  all  its  most  suitable  details. 
His  conscience  as  a  burgher  had  a  trial  no  less  hard  to  un- 
dergo, when  the  ladies,  in  distributing  the  characters,  point- 
edly insisted  that  he  must  undertake  one  himself. 

Laertes  had  received  for  his  allotment  the  part  of  that 
violent  war-god  ;  Wilhelm  was  to  represent  the  leader  of  the 
peasants,  who  had  some  very  pretty  and  tender  verses  to 
recite.  After  long  resistance  he  was  forced  to  comply :  he 
could  find  no  excuse,  when  the  baroness  protested  that  their 
stage  was  in  all  respects  to  be  regarded  as  a  private  one, 
and  that  she  herself  would  very  gladly  play  on  it,  if  they 
could  find  her  a  fit  occasion.  On  receiving  his  consent,  they 
parted  with  our  friend  on  the  kindest  terms.  The  baroness 
assured  him  that  he  was  an  incomparable  man :  she  accom- 
panied him  to  the  little  stairs,  and  wished  him  good-night 
with  a  squeeze  of  the  hand. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  157 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  interest  in  his  undertakings,  which  the  countess  and 
her  friend  expressed  and  felt  so  warmly,  quickened  Wil- 
helm's  faculties  and  zeal :  the  plan  of  his  piece,  which  the 
process  of  describing  it  had  rendered  more  distinct,  was  now 
present  in  the  most  brilliant  vividness  before  his  mind.  He 
spent  the  greater  part  of  that  night,  and  the  whole  of  next 
morning,  in  the  sedulous  versification  of  the  dialogue  and 
songs. 

He  had  proceeded  a  considerable  wajr,  when  a  message 
came,  requiring  his  attendance  in  the  castle :  the  noble  corn- 
pan}',  who  were  then  at  breakfast,  wished  to  speak  with  him. 
As  he  entered  the  parlor,  the  baroness  advanced  to  meet 
him,  and,  under  pretext  of  wishing  him  good-morning, 
whispered  cunningly,  "  Say  nothing  of  your  piece  but  what 
you  shall  be  asked." 

.  "  I  hear,"  cried  the  count  to  him,  "  that  you  are  very 
busy  working  at  my  prelude,  which  I  mean  to  present  in 
honor  of  the  prince.  I  consent  that  you  introduce  a  Mi- 
nerva into  it ;  and  we  are  just  thinking  beforehand  how  the 
goddess  shall  be  dressed,  that  we  may  not  blunder  in  cos- 
tume. For  this  purpose  I  am  causing  them  to  fetch  from 
the  library  all  the  books  that  contain  any  figures  of  her." 

At  the  same  instant,  one  or  two  servants  entered  the 
parlor,  with  a  huge  basket  full  of  books  of  every  shape  and 
appearance. 

Montfaucon,  the  collections  of  antique  statues,  gems,  and 
coins,  all  sorts  of  mythological  writings,  were  turned  up, 
and  their  plates  compared.  But  this  was  not  enough.  The 
count's  faithful  memory  recalled  to  him  all  the  Minervas  to 
be  found  in  frontispieces,  vignettes,  or  anywhere  else ;  and 
book  after  book  was,  in  consequence,  carried  from  the  library, 
till  finally  the  count  was  sitting  in  a  chaos  of  volumes.  Un- 
able at  last  to  recollect  any  other  figure  of  Minerva,  he  ob- 
served with  a  smile,  "  I  durst  bet,  that  now  there  is  not  a 
single  Minerva  in  all  the  librai'y  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  the  first 
time  that  a  collection  of  books  has  been  so  totally  deprived 
of  the  presence  of  its  patron  goddess." 

The  whole  company  were  merry  at  this  thought:  Jarno 
particularly,  who  had  all  along  been  spurring  on  the  count  to 
call  for  more  and  more  books,  laughed  quite  immoderately. 

"  Now,"  said  the  count,  turning  to  Wilhelm,  "  one  chief 


158  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

point  is,  — which  goddess  do  you  mean?  Minerva,  or  Pallas? 
The  goddess  of  war,  or  of  the  arts?  " 

"  Would  it  not  be  best,  your  Excellency,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"  if  we  were  not  clearly  to  express  ourselves  on  this  head  ;  if, 
since  the  goddess  plays  a  double  part  in  the  ancient  mythol- 
ogy, we  also  exhibited  her  here  in  a  double  quality?  She 
announces  a  warrior,  but  only  to  calm  the  tumults  of  the 
people  ;  she  celebrates  a  hero  by  exalting  his  humanity  ;  she 
conquers  violence,  and  restores  peace  and  security." 

The  baroness,  afraid  lest  Wilhelm  might  betray  himself, 
hastily  pushed  forward  the  countess's  tailor,  to  give  his 
opinion  how  such  an  antique  robe  could  best  be  got  ready. 
This  man,  being  frequently  employed  in  making  masquerade 
dresses,  very  easily  contrived  the  business :  and  as  Madam 
Melina,  notwithstanding  her  advanced  state  of  pregnancy, 
had  undertaken  to  enact  the  celestial  virgin,  the'  tailor  was 
directed  to  take  her  measure  ;  and  the  countess,  though  with 
some  reluctance,  selected  from  the  wardrobe  the  clothes  he 
was  to  cut  up  for  that  purpose. 

The  baroness,  in  her  dexterous  way,  again  contrived  to 
lead  Wilhelm  aside,  and  let  him  know  that  she  had  been  pro- 
viding all  the  other  necessaries.  Shortly  afterwards  she 
sent  him  the  musician,  who  had  charge  of  the  count's  private 
band  ;  and  this  professor  set  about  composing  what  airs  were 
wanted,  or  choosing  from  his  actual  stock  such  tunes  as 
appeared  suitable.  From  this  time  all  went  on  according  to 
the  wishes  of  our  friend :  the  count  made  no  more  inquiries 
about  the  piece ;  being  altogether  occupied  with  the  trans- 
parent decoration,  destined  to  surprise  the  spectators  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  play.  His  inventive  genius,  aided  by  the 
skill  of  his  confectioner,  produced,  in  fact,  a  very  pretty 
article.  In  the  course  of  his  travels,  the  count  had  witnessed 
tne  most  splendid  exhibitions  of  this  sort:  he  had  also 
brought  home  with  him  a  number  of  copper-plates  and  draw- 
ings, and  could  sketch  such  things  with  considerable  taste. 

Meanwhile  Wilhelm  finished  the  play,  gave  every  one  his 
part,  and  began  the  study  of  his  own.  The  musician  also, 
having  great  skill  in  dancing,  prepared  the  ballet ;  so  that 
every  thing  proceeded  as  it  ought. 

Yet  one  unexpected  obstacle  occurred,  which  threatened 
to  occasion  an  unpleasant  gap  in  the  performance.  He  had 
promised  to  himself  a  striking  effect  from  Mignon's  egg- 
dance,  and  was  much  surprised  when  the  child,  with  her 
customary  dryness  of  manner,  refused  to  dance ;  sa}-ing  she 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  159 

was  now  his,  and  would  no  more  go  upon  the  stage.  He 
sought  to  move  her  by  every  sort  of  persuasion,  and  did  not 
discontinue  his  attempt  till  she  began  weeping  bitterly,  fell 
at  his  feet,  and  cried  out,  "  Dearest  father !  stay  thou  from 
the  boards  thyself !  "  Little  heeding  this  caution,  he  studied 
how  to  give  the  scene  some  other  turn  that  might  be  equally 
interesting. 

Philina,  whose  appointment  was  to  act  one  of  the  peasant 
girls,  and  in  the  concluding  dance  to  give  the  single-voice 
part  of  the  song,  and  lead  the  chorus,  felt  exceedingly  de- 
lighted that  it  had  been  so  ordered.  In  other  respects,  too, 
her  present  life  was  altogether  to  her  mind:  she  had  her 
separate  chamber ;  was  constantly  beside  the  countess,  enter- 
taining her  with  fooleries,  and  daily  received  some  present 
for  her  pains.  Among  other  things,  a  dress  had  been  ex- 
pressly made  for  her  wearing  in  this  prelude.  And  being  of 
a  light,  imitative  nature,  she  quickly  marked  in  the  procedure 
of  the  ladies  whatever  would  befit  herself :  she  had  of  late 
grown  all  politeness  and  decorum.  The  attentions  of  the 
Stallmeister  augmented  rather  than  diminished ;  and  as  the 
officers  also  paid  zealous  court  to  her,  living  in  so  genial  an 
element,  it  came  into  her  head  for  once  in  her  life  to  play 
the  prude,  and,  in  a  quiet,  gradual  way,  to  take  upon  her- 
self a  certain  dignity  of  manner  to  which  she  had  not  before 
aspired.  Cool  and  sharp-sighted  as  she  was,  eight  days  had 
not  elapsed  till  she  knew  the  weak  side  of  every  person  in 
the  house ;  so  that,  had  she  possessed  the  power  of  acting 
from  any  constant  motive,  she  might  very  easily  have  made 
her  fortune.  But  on  this  occasion,  as  on  all  others,  she 
employed  her  advantages  merely  to  divert  herself,  —  to  pro- 
cure a  bright  to-day,  and  be  impertinent,  wherever  she  ob- 
served that  impertinence  was  not  attended  with  danger. 

The  parts  were  now  committed  to  memory :  a  rehearsal  of 
the  piece  was  ordered  ;  the  count  purposed  to  be  present  at 
it,  and  his  lady  began  to  feel  anxious  how  he  might  receive 
it.  The  baroness  called  Wilhelm  to  her  privately.  The  nearer 
the  hour  approached,  the}'  all  displayed  the  more  perplexity  ; 
for  the  truth  was,  that,  of  the  count's  original  idea,  nothing- 
whatever  had  been  introduced.  Jarno,  who  joined  them  while 
consulting  together,  was  admitted  to  the  secret.  He  felt 
amused  at  the  contrivance,  and  was  heartih*  disposed  to  offer 
the  ladies  his  good  services  in  carrying  it  through.  "  It  will 
go  hard,"  said  he,  "  if  you  cannot  extricate  yourselves  with- 
out help  from  this  affair ;  but,  at  all  events,  I  will  wait,  as  a 


160  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

body  of  reserve."  The  baroness  then  told  them  how  she 
had  on  various  occasions  recited  the  whole  piece  to  the  count, 
but  only  in  fragments  and  without  order  ;  that  consequently 
he  was  prepared  for  each  individual  passage,  yet  certainly 
possessed  with  the  idea  that  the  whole  would  coincide  with 
his  original  conception.  "  I  will  sit  by  him,"  said  she,  "  to- 
night at  the  rehearsal,  and  studj7  to  divert  his  attention. 
The  confectioner  I  have  engaged  already  to  make  the  decora- 
tion as  beautiful  as  possible,  but  as  yet  he  has  not  quite 
completed  it." 

"  I  know  of  a  court,"  said  Jarno,  "  where  I  wish  we  had 
a  few  such  active  and  prudent  friends  as  you.  If  your  skill 
to-night  will  not  suffice,  give  me  a  signal :  I  will  take  out 
the  count,  and  not  let  him  in  again  till  Minerva  enter ;  and 
you  have  speedy  aid  to  expect  from  the  illumination.  For  a 
day  or  two  I  have  had  something  to  report  to  him  about  his 
cousin,  which  for  various  reasons  I  have  hitherto  postponed. 
It  will  give  his  thoughts  another  turn,  and  that  none  of  the 
pleasantest." 

Business  hindered  the  count  from  being  present  when  the 
play  began  ;  the  baroness  amused  him  after  his  arrival : 
Jarno 's  help  was  not  required.  For  as  the  count  had  abun- 
dance of  employment  in  pointing  out  improvements,  rectifying 
and  arranging  the  detached  parts,  he  entirely  forgot  the  pur- 
port of  the  whole  ;  and,  as  at  last  Madam  Melina  advanced, 
and  spoke  according  to  his  heart,  and  the  transparency  did 
well,  he  seemed  completely  satisfied.  It  was  not  till  the 
whole  was  finished,  and  his  guests  were  sitting  down  to  cards, 
that  the  difference  appeared  to  strike  him  ;  and  he  began  to 
think  whether  after  all  this  piece  was  actually  of  his  inven- 
tion. At  a  signal  from  the  baroness,  Jarno  then  came  for- 
ward into  action  ;  the  evening  passed  away  ;  the  intelligence 
of  the  prince's  approach  was  confirmed ;  the  people  rode  out 
more  than  once  to  see  his  vanguard  encamping  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  the  house  was  full  of  noise  and  tumult ;  and  our 
actors,  not  always  served  in  the  handsomest  manner  by  un- 
willing servants,  had  to  pass  their  time  in  practisings  and 
expectations  at  their  quarters  in  the  old  mansion,  without 
any  one  particularly  taking  thought  about  them. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  161 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AT  length  the  prince  arrived,  with  all  his  generals,  staff- 
officers,  and  suite  accompanying  him.  These,  and  the  multi- 
tude of  people  coming  to  visit  or  do  business  with  him,  made 
the  castle  like  a  beehive  on  the  point  of  swarming.  All 
pressed  forward  to  behold  a  man  no  less  distinguished  by  his 
rank  than  by  his  great  qualities,  and  all  admired  his  urbanity 
and  condescension :  all  were  astonished  at  finding  the  hero 
and  the  leader  of  armies  also  the  most  accomplished  and 
attractive  courtier. 

By  the  count's  orders,  the  inmates  of  the  castle  were  re- 
quired to  be  all  at  their  posts  when  the  prince  arrived  :  not 
a  player  was  allowed  to  show  himself,  that  his  Highness  might 
have  no  anticipation  of  the  spectacle  prepared  to  welcome 
him.  Accordingly,  when  at  evening  he  was  led  into  the  lofty 
hall,  glowing  with  light,  and  adorned  with  tapestries  of  the 
previous  century,  he  seemed  not  at  all  prepared  to  expect  a 
play,  and  still  less  a  prelude  in  honor  of  himself.  Every 
thing  went  off  as  it  should  have  done :  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  show,  the  whole  troop  were  called  and  presented  indi- 
vidually to  the  prince,  who  contrived,  with  the  most  pleasing 
and  friendly  air,  to  put  some  question,  or  make  some  remark, 
to  every  one  of  them.  Wilhelm,  as  author  of  the  piece,  was 
particularly  noticed,  and  had  his  tribute  of  applause  liberally 
paid  him. 

The  prelude  being  fairly  over,  no  one  asked  another  word 
about  it :  in  a  few  days,  it  was  as  if  it  never  had  existed ; 
except  that  occasionally  Jarno  spoke  of  it  to  Wilhelm,  judi- 
ciously praised  it,  adding,  however,  "It  is  pity  you  should 
play  with  hollow  nuts,  for  a  stake  of  hollow  nuts."  This 
expression  stuck  in  Wilhelm' s  mind  for  several  days :  he 
knew  not  how  to  explain  it,  or  what  to  infer  from  it. 

Meanwhile  the  company  kept  acting  every  night,  as  well 
as  their  capacities  permitted  ;  each  doing  his  utmost  to  attract 
the  attention  of  spectators.  Undeserved  applauses  cheered 
them  on  :  in  their  old  castle  they  fully  believed,  that  the  great 
assemblage  was  crowding  thither  solely  on  their  account ;  that 
the  multitude  of  strangers  was  allured  by  their  exhibitions  ; 
that  they  were  the  centre  round  which,  and  by  means  of  which, 
the  whole  was  moving  and  revolving. 

Wilhelm  alone  discovered,  to  his  sorrow,  that  directly  the 
reverse  was  true.  For  although  the  prince  had  waited  out 


162  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  first  exhibitions,  sitting  on  his  chair,  with  the  greatest 
conscientiousness,  yet  by  degrees  he  grew  remiss  in  his  at- 
tendance, and  seized  every  plausible  occasion  of  withdrawing. 
And  those  very  people  whom  Wilhelm,  in  conversation,  had 
found  to  be  the  best  informed  and  most  sensible,  with  Jarno 
at  their  head,  were  wont  to  spend  but  a  few  transitory  mo- 
ments in  the  hall  of  the  theatre  ;  sitting  for  the  rest  of  their 
time  in  the  ante-chamber,  gaming,  or  seeming  to  employ  them- 
selves in  business. 

Amid  all  his  persevering  efforts,  to  want  the  wished  and 
hoped  for  approbation  grieved  Wilhelm  very  deeply.  In  the 
choice  of  plays,  in  transcribing  the  parts,  in  numerous  re- 
hearsals, and  whatever  further  could  be  done,  he  zealously 
co-operated  with  Melina,  who,  being  in  secret  conscious 
of  his  own  insufficiency,  at  length  acknowledged  and  pur- 
sued these  counsels.  His  own  parts  Wilhelm  diligently 
studied,  and  executed  with  vivacity  and  feeling,  and  with 
all  the  propriety  the  little  training  he  had  yet  received  would 
allow. 

At  the  same  time,  the  unwearied  interest  the  baron  took 
in  their  performances  obliterated  every  doubt  from  the 
minds  of  the  rest  of  the  company :  he  assured  them  that 
their  exhibitions  were  producing  the  deepest  effect,  especially 
while  one  of  his  own  pieces  had  been  representing ;  only 
he  was  grieved  to  say,  the  prince  showed  an  exclusive  in- 
clination for  the  French  theatre  ;  while  a  part  of  his  people, 
among  whom  Jarno  was  especially  distinguished,  gave  a 
passionate  preference  to  the  monstrous  productions  of  the 
English  stage. 

If  in  this  way  the  art  of  our  players  was  not  adequately 
noticed  and  admired,  their  persons  on  the  other  hand  grew 
not  entirely  indifferent  to  all  the  gentlemen  and  all  the 
ladies  of  the  audience.  We  observed  above,  that,  from  the 
very  first,  our  actresses  had  drawn  upon  them  the  attention 
of  the  young  officers :  in  the  sequel  they  were  luckier,  and 
made  more  important  conquests.  But,  omitting  these,  we 
shall  merely  observe,  that  Wrilhelm  every  day  appeared  more 
interesting  to  the  countess  ;  while  in  him,  too,  a  silent  inclina- 
tion towards  her  was  beginning  to  take  root.  Whenever  he 
was  on  the  stage,  she  could  not  turn  her  eyes  from  him  ;  and, 
erelong,  he  seemed  to  play  and  to  recite  with  his  face  towards 
her  alone.  To  look  upon  each  other,  was  to  them  the  sweet- 
est satisfaction ;  to  which  their  harmless  souls  yielded  with- 
out reserve,  without  cherishing  a  bolder  wish,  or  thinking 
about  any  consequence. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  163 

As  two  hostile  outposts  will  sometimes  peacefully  and 
pleasantly  converse  together  across  the  river  which  divides 
them,  not  thinking  of  the  war  in  which  both  their  countries 
are  engaged :  so  did  the  countess  exchange  looks  full  of 
meaning  with  our  friend,  across  the  vast  chasm  of  birth  and 
rank ;  both  believing  for  themselves  that  they  might  safely 
cherish  their  several  emotions. 

The  baroness,  in  the  mean  time,  had  selected  Laertes, 
who,  being  a  spirited  and  lively  young  man,  pleased  her  very 
much ;  and  who,  woman-hater  as  he  was,  felt  unwilling  to 
refuse  a  passing  adventure.  He  would  actually  on  this  occa- 
sion have  been  fettered,  against  his  will,  by  the  courteous 
and  attractive  nature  of  the  baroness,  had  not  the  baron 
done  him  accidentally  a  piece  of  good,  or,  if  you  will,  of 
bad,  service,  by  instructing  him  a  little  in  the  habits  and 
temper  of  this  lady. 

Laertes,  happening  once  to  celebrate  her  praises,  and  give 
her  the  preference  to  every  other  of  her  sex,  the  baron,  with 
a  grin,  replied,  "  I  see  how  matters  stand :  our  fair  friend 
has  got  a  fresh  inmate  for  her  stalls."  This  luckless  com- 
parison, which  pointed  too  clearly  to  the  dangerous  caresses 
of  the  Circe,  grieved  poor  Laertes  to  the  heart :  he  could  not 
listen  to  the  baron  without  spite  and  anger,  as  the  latter 
continued  without  mercy,  — 

"  Every  stranger  thinks  he  is  the  first  whom  this  delightful 
manner  of  proceeding  has  concerned,  but  he  is  grievously 
mistaken ;  for  we  have  all,  at  one  time  or  another,  been 
trotted  round  this  course.  Man,  youth,  or  boy,  be  who  he 
like,  each  must  devote  himself  to  her  service  for  a  season, 
must  hang  about  her,  and  toil  and  long  to  gain  her  favor." 

To  the  happy  man  just  entering  the  garden  of  an  enchant- 
ress, and  welcomed  by  all  the  pleasures  .of  an  artificial 
spring,  nothing  can  form  a  more  unpleasant  surprise,  than 
if,  while  his  ear  is  watching  and  drinking  in  the  music  of  the 
nightingales,  some  transformed  predecessor  on  a  sudden 
grunts  at  his  feet. 

After  this  discovery,  Laertes  felt  heartily  ashamed  that 
vanity  should  have  again  misled  him  to  think  well,  even  in 
the  smallest  degree,  of  any  woman  whatsoever.  Pie  now 
entirely  forsook  the  baroness  ;  kept  by  the  Stattmetiter,  with 
whom  he  diligently  fenced  and  hunted ;  conducting  him- 
self at  rehearsals  and  representations  as  if  these  were  but 
secondary  matters. 

The  count  and  his  lady  would  often  in  the  mornings  send 


164  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

for  some  of  the  company  to  attend  them,  and  all  had  con- 
tinual cause  to  envy  the  undeserved  good  fortune  of  Philina. 
The  count  kept  his  favorite,  the  Pedant,  frequently  for  hours 
together,  at  his  toilet.  This  genius  had  been  dressed  out 
by  degrees :  he  was  now  equipped  and  furnished,  even  to 
watch  and  snuff-box. 

Many  times,  too,  particularly  after  dinner,  the  whole 
company  were  called  out  before  the  noble  guests,  —  an  honor 
which  the  artists  regarded  as  the  most  flattering  in  the 
world  ;  not  observing,  that  on  these  very  occasions  the  ser- 
vants and  huntsmen  were  ordered  to  bring  in  a  multitude  of 
hounds,  and  to  lead  strings  of  horses  about  the  court  of  the 
castle. 

Wilhelm  had  been  counselled  to  praise  Racine,  the  prince's 
favorite,  and  thereby  to  attract  some  portion  of  his  High- 
ness's  favor  to  himself.  On  one  of  these  afternoons,  being 
summoned  with  the  rest,  he  found  an  opportunity  to  intro- 
duce this  topic.  The  prince  asked  him  if  he  diligently  read 
the  great  French  dramatic  writers,  to  which  Wilhelm  an- 
swered with  a  very  eager  "  Yes."  He  did  not  observe  that 
his  Highness,  without  waiting  for  the  answer,  was  already  on 
the  point  of  turning  round  to  some  one  else :  he  fixed  upon 
him,  on  the  contrary,  almost  stepping  in  his  way,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  declare  that  he  valued  the  French  theatre  very 
highly,  and  read  the  works  of  their  great  masters  with  de- 
light ;  particularly  he  had  learned  with  true  joy  that  his 
Highness  did  complete  justice  to  the  great  talents  of  Racine. 
"I  can  easily  conceive,"  continued  he,  "how  people  of 
high  breeding  and  exalted  rank  must  value  a  poet  who  has 
painted  so  excellently  and  so  truly  the  circumstances  of  their 
lofty  station.  Corneille.,  if  I  may  say  so,  has  delineated 
great  men ;  Racine,  men  of  eminent  rank.  In  reading  his 
plan's,  I  can  always  figure  to  myself  the  poet  as  living  at  a 
splendid  court,  with  a  great  king  before  his  eyes,  in  con- 
stant intercourse  with  the  most  distinguished  persons,  and 
penetrating  into  the  secrets  of  'human  nature,  as  it  works 
concealed  behind  the  gorgeous  tapestry  of  palaces.  When 
I  study  his  "  Britannicus,"  his  "  B£r£nice,"  it  seems  as  if  I 
were  transported  in  person  to  the  court,  were  initiated  into  the 
great  and  the  little,  in  the  habitations  of  these  earthly  gods : 
through  the  fine  and  delicate  organs  of  my  author,  I  see 
kings  whom  a  nation  adores,  courtiers  whom  thousands  envy, 
in  their  natural  forms,  with  their  failings  and  their  pains. 
The  anecdote  of  Racine's  dying  of  a  broken  heart,  because 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  165 

Louis  Fourteenth  would  no  longer  attend  to  him,  and  had 
shown  him  his  dissatisfaction,  is  to  me  the  key  to  all  his 
works.  It  was  impossible  that  a  poet  of  his  talents,  whose 
life  and  death  depended  on  the  looks  of  a  king,  should  not 
write  such  works  as  a  king  and  a  prince  might  applaud." 

Jarno  had  stepped  near,  and  was  listening  with  astonish- 
ment. The  prince,  who  had  made  no  answer,  and  had  only 
shown  his  approbation  by  an  assenting  look,  now  turned 
aside ;  though  Wilhelm,  who  did  not  know  that  it  was  con- 
trary to  etiquette  to  continue  a  discussion  under  such  circum- 
stances, and  exhaust  a  subject,  would  gladly  have  spoken 
more,  and  convinced  the  prince  that  he  had  not  read  his 
favorite  poet  without  sensibility  and  profit. 

"  Have  you  never,"  said  Jarno,  taking  him  aside,  "  read 
one  of  Shakspeare's  plays?" 

"No,"  replied  Wilhelm:  "since  the  time -when  they  be- 
came more  known  in  Germany,  I  have  myself  grown  unac- 
quainted with  the  theatre  ;  and  I  know  not  whether  I  should 
now  rejoice  that  an  old  taste,  and  occupation  of  my  youth, 
has  been  by  chance  renewed.  In  the  mean  time,  all  I 
have  heard  of  these  plays  has  excited  no  wish  to  become 
acquainted  with  such  extraordinary  monsters,  which  appear 
to  set  probability  and  dignity  alike  at  defiance." 

"  I  would  advise  you,"  said  the  other,  "  to  make  a  trial, 
notwithstanding :  it  can  do  one  no  harm  to  look  at  what  is 
extraordinary  with  one's  own  eyes.  I  will  lend  you  a  volume 
or  two ;  and  you  cannot  better  spend  your  time,  than  by 
casting  every  thing  aside,  and  retiring  to  the  solitude  of 
your  old  habitation,  to  look  into  the  magic-lantern  of  that 
unknown  world.  It  is  sinful  of  you  to  waste  your  hours 
in  dressing  out  these  apes  to  look  more  human,  and  teaching 
dogs  to  dance.  One  thing  only  I  require,  —  you  must  not 
cavil  at  the  form :  the  rest  I  can  leave  to  your  own  good 
sense  and  feeling." 

The  horses  were  standing  at  the  door ;  and  Jarno  mounted 
with  some  other  cavaliers,  to  go  and  hunt.  Wilhelm  looked 
after  him  with  sadness.  He  would  fain  have  spoken  much 
with  this  man,  who,  though  in  a  harsh,  unfriendly  way,  gave 
him  new  ideas,  —  ideas  he  had  need  of. 

Oftentimes  a  man,  when  approaching  some  development 
of  his  powers,  capacities,  and  conceptions,  gets  into  a  per- 
plexity, from  which  a  prudent  friend  might  easily  deliver 
him.  He  resembles  a  traveller  who,  at  but  a  short  distance 
from  the  inn  he  is  to  rest  at,  falls  into  the  water :  were  any 


166  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

one  to  catch  him  then,  and  pull  him  to  the  bank,  with  one 
good  wetting  it  were  over ;  whereas,  though  he  struggles  out 
himself,  it  is  often  at  the  side  where  he  tumbled  in  ;  and  he 
has  to  make  a  wide  and  dreary  circuit  before  reaching  his 
appointed  object. 

Wilhelm  now  began  to  have  an  inkling  that  things  went 
forward  in  the  world  differently  from  what  he  had  supposed. 
He  now  viewed  close  at  hand  the  solemn  and  imposing  life 
of  the  great  and  distinguished,  and  wondered  at  the  easy 
dignity  which  they  contrived  to  give  it.  An  army  on  its 
march,  a  princely  hero  at  the  head  of  it,  such  a  multitude  of 
co-operating  warriors,  such  a  multitude  of  crowding  wor- 
shippers, exalted  his  imagination.  In  this  mood  he  received 
the  promised  books ;  and  erelong,  as  may  be  easily  sup- 
posed, the  stream  of  that  mighty  genius  laid  hold  of  him,  and 
led  him  down  to  a  shoreless  ocean,  where  he  soon  com- 
pletely forgot  and  lost  himself. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  connection  between  the  baron  and  the  actors  had  suf- 
fered various  changes  since  the  arrival  of  the  latter.  At  the 
commencement  it  had  been  productive  of  great  satisfaction 
to  both  parties.  As  the  baron  for  the  first  time  in  his  .life 
now  saw  one  of  those  plays,  with  which  he  had  already 
graced  a  private  theatre,  put  into  the  hands  of  real  actors, 
and  in  the  fair  way  for  a  decent  exhibition,  he  showed  the 
benignest  humor  in  the  world.  He  was  liberal  in  gifts  :  he 
bought  little  presents  for  the  actresses  from  every  millinery 
hawker,  and  contrived  to  send  over  many  an  odd  bottle  of 
champagne  to  the  actors.  In  return  for  all  this,  our  com- 
pany took  every  sort  of  trouble  with  his  play  ;  and  Wilhelm 
spared  no  diligence  in  learning,  with  extreme  correctness, 
the  sublime  speeches  of  that  very  eminent  hero,  whose  part 
had  fallen  to  his  share. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  these  kind  reciprocities,  some  clouds  by 
degrees  arose  between  the  players  and  their  patron.  The 
baron's  preference  for  certain  actors  became  daih-  more  ob- 
servable :  this  of  necessity  chagrined  the  rest.  He  exalted 
his  favorites  quite  exclusively,  and  thus,  of  course,  intro- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  167 

duced  disunion  and  jealousy  among  the  company.  Melina, 
without  skill  to  help  himself  in  dubious  junctures,  felt  his 
situation  very  vexing.  The  persons  eulogized  accepted  of 
their  praise,  without  being  singularly  thankful  for  it ;  while 
the  neglected  gentlemen  showed  traces  of  their  spleen  by  a 
thousand  methods,  and  constantly  found  means  to  make  it 
very  disagreeable  for  their  once  much-honored  patron  to  ap- 
pear among  them.  Their  spite  received  no  little  nourish- 
ment from  a  certain  poem,  by  an  unknown  author,  which 
made  a  great  sensation  in  the  castle.  Previously  to  this  the 
baron's  intercourse  with  the  company  had  given  rise  to  many 
little  strokes  of  merriment ;  several  stories  had  been  raised 
about  him  ;  certain  little  incidents,  adorned  with  suitable  ad- 
ditions, and  presented  in  the  proper  light,  had  been  talked 
of,  and  made  the  subject  of  much  bantering  and  laughter. 
At  last  it  began  to  be  said  that  a  certain  rivalry  of  trade  was 
arising  between  him  and  some  of  the  actors,  who  also  looked 
upon  themselves  as  writers.  The  poem  we  spoke  of  was 
founded  upon  this  report :  it  ran  as  follows  :  — 

"Lord  Baron,  I,  poor  devil,  own 

With  envy,  you  your  rank  and  state ; 
Your  station,  too,  so  near  the  throne; 

Of  heirs  your  possessions  great; 
Tour  father's  seat,  with  walls  and  mounds, 
His  game-preserves,  and  hunting-grounds. 

While  me,  poor  devil,  it  appears, 

Lord  Baron,  you  with  envy  view, 
Since  Nature,  from  my  early  years, 

Has  held  me  like  a  mother  true, 
With  heart  and  head  both  light,  I  poor, 
But  no  poor  wight  grew,  to  be  sure. 

My  dear  Lord  Baron,  now  to  me 

It  seems,  we  well  alone  should  let, 
That  you  your  father's  son  still  be, 

And  I  remain  my  mother's  pet: 
Let's  free  from  envy  live,  and  hate ; 

Nor  let's  desire  each  other's  title: 
No  place  you  on  Parnassus  great, 

No  noble  rank  I  in  requital." 

—  Editor's  Version. 

Upon  this  poem,  which  various  persons  were  possessed  of, 
in  copies  scarcely  legible,  opinions  were  exceedingly  divided. 
But  who  the  author  was,  no  one  could  guess  ;  and,  as  some 
began  to  draw  a  spiteful  mirth  from  it,  our  friend  expressed 
himself  against  it  very  keenly. 


1G8  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"We  Germans,"  he  exclaimed,  "deserve  to  have  our 
Muses  still  continue  in  the  low  contempt  wherein  they  have 
languished  so  long  ;  since  we  cannot  value  men  of  rank  who 
take  a  share  in  our  literature,  no  matter  how !  Birth,  rank, 
and  fortune  are  no  wise  incompatible  with  genius  and  taste  ; 
as  foreign  nations,  reckoning  among  their  best  minds  a  great 
number  of  noblemen,  can  fully  testify.  Hitherto,  indeed,  it 
has  been  rare  in  Germany  for  men  of  high  station  to  devote 
themselves  to  science  ;  hitherto  few  famous  names  have  be- 
come more  famous  by  their  love  of  art  and  learning ;  while 
many,  on  the  other  hand,  have  mounted  out  of  darkness  to 
distinction,  and  risen  like  unknown  stars  on  the  horizon. 
Yet  such  will  not  always  be  the  case  ;  and  I  greatly  err,  if 
the  first  classes  of  the  nation  are  not  even  now  in  the  way  of 
also  employing  their  advantages  to  earn  the  fairest  laurels 
of  the  Muses,  at  no  distant  date.  Nothing,  therefore,  grieves 
me  more  than  to  see  the  burgher  jeering  at  the  noble  who 
can  value  literature  ;  nay,  even  men  of  rank  themselves,  with 
inconsiderate  caprice,  maliciously  scaring  off  their  equal  from 
a  path  where  honor  and  contentment  wait  on  all." 

Apparently  this  latter  observation  pointed  at  the  count,  of 
whom  Wilhelm  had  heard  that  he  liked  the  poem  very  much. 
In  truth,  this  nobleman,  accustomed  to  rally  the  baron  in  his 
own  peculiar  way,  was  extremely  glad  of  such  an  opportunity 
to  plague  his  kinsman  more  effectually.  As  to  who  the 
writer  of  the  squib  might  be,  each  formed  his  own  hypoth- 
esis ;  and  the  count,  never  willing  that  another  should  sur- 
pass him  in  acuteness,  fell  upon  a  thought,  which,  in  a  short 
time,  he  would  have  sworn  to  the  truth  of.  The  verses 
could  be  written,  he  believed,  by  no  one  but  his  Pedant,  who 
was  a  very  shrewd  knave,  and  in  whom,  for  a  long  while,  he 
had  noticed  some  touches  of  poetic  genius.  By  way  of 
proper  treat,  he  therefore  caused  the  Pedant  one  morning  to 
be  sent  for,  and  made  him  read  the  poem,  in  his  own  man- 
ner, in  presence  of  the  countess,  the  baroness,  and  Jarno,  —  a 
service  he  was  paid  for  by  applauses,  praises,  and  a  present ; 
and,  on  the  count's  inquiring  if  he  had  not  still  some  other 
poems  of  an  earlier  time,  he  cunningly  contrived  to  evade 
the  question.  Thus  did  the  Pedant  get  invested  with  the 
reputation  of  a  poet  and  a  wit.  and,  in  the  eyes  of  the  baron's 
friends,  of  a  pasquinacler  and  a  bad-hearted  man.  From 
that  period,  play  as  he  might,  the  count  applauded  him 
with  greater  zeal  than  ever ;  so  that  the  poor  wight  grew  at 
last  inflated  till  he  nearly  lost  his  senses,  and  began  to  medi- 
tate having  a  chamber  in  the  castle,  like  Pliilina. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  169 

Had  this  project  been  fulfilled  at  once,  a  great  mishap  might 
have  been  spared  him.  As  he  was  returning  late  one  even- 
ing from  the  castle,  groping  about  in  the  dark,  narrow  way, 
he  was  suddenly  laid  hold  of,  and  kept  on  the  spot  by  some 
persons,  while  some  others  rained  a  shower  of  blows  upon 
him,  and  battered  him  so  stoutly,  that  in  a  few  seconds  he 
was  lying  almost  dead  upon  the  place,  and  could  not  without 
difficulty  crawl  in  to  his  companions.  These,  indignant  as 
they  seemed  to  be  at  such  an  outrage,  felt  their  secret  joy  in 
the  adventure  :  they  could  hardly  keep  from  laughing,  at  see- 
ing him  so  thoroughly  curried,  and  his  new  brown  coat  be- 
dusted  through  and  through,  and  bedaubed  with  white,  as  if 
he  had  had  to  do  with  millers. 

The  count,  who  soon  got  notice  of  the  business,  broke  into 
a  boundless  rage.  He  treated  this  act  as  the  most  heinous 
crime,  called  it  an  infringement  of  the  Burgfried,  or  peace 
of  the  castle,  and  caused  his  judge  to  make  the  strictest 
inquisition  touching  it.  The  whited  coat,  it  was  imagined, 
would  afford  a  leading  proof.  Every  creature  that  possibly 
could  have  the  smallest  trade  with  flour  or  powder  in  the 
castle  was  submitted  to  investigation,  but  in  vain. 

The  baron  solemnly  protested  on  his  honor,  that  although 
this  sort  of  jesting  had  considerably  displeased  him,  and  the 
conduct  of  his  lordship  the  count  had  not  been  the  friend- 
liest, yet  he  had  got  over  the  affair ;  and  with  respect  to  the 
misfortune  which  had  come  upon  the  poet,  or  pasquinader, 
or  whatsoever  his  title  might  be,  he  knew  absolutely  nothing, 
and  had  not  the  most  remote  concern  in  it. 

The  operations  of  the  strangers,  and  the  general  commo- 
tion of  the  house,  soon  effaced  all  recollection  of  the  matter ; 
and  so,  without  redress,  the  unlucky  favorite  had  to  pay 
dear  for  the  satisfaction  of  pluming  himself,  a  short  while,  in 
feathers  not  his  own. 

Our  troop,  regularly  acting  every  night,  and  on  the  whole 
very  decently  treated,  now  began  to  make  more  clamorous 
demands,  the  better  they  were  dealt  with.  Erelong  their 
victuals,  drink,  attendance,  lodging,  grew  inadequate  ;  and 
they  called  upon  the  baron,  their  protector,  to  provide  more 
liberally  for  them,  and  at  last  make  good  those  promises  of 
comfortable  entertainment,  which  he  had  been  giving  them  so 
long.  Their  complaints  grew  louder,  and  the  efforts  of  our 
friend  to  still  them  more  and  more  abortive. 

Meanwhile,  excepting  in  rehearsals  and  hours  of  acting, 
Wilhelm  scarcely  ever  came  abroad.  Shut  up  in  one  of  the 


170  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

remotest  chambers,  to  which  Mignon  and  the  harper  alone 
had  free  access,  he  lived  and  moved  in  the  Shakspearian 
world,  feeling  or  knowing  nothing  but  the  movements  of  his 
own  mind. 

We  have  heard  of  some  enchanter  summoning,  by  magic 
formulas,  a  vast  multitude  of  spiritual  shapes  into  his  cell. 
The  conjurations  are  so  powerful  that  the  whole  space  of  the 
apartment  is  quickly  full ;  and  the  spirits,  crowding  on  to  the 
verge  of  the  little  circle  which  they  must  not  pass,  around 
this,  and  above  the  master's  head,  keep  increasing  in  number, 
and  ever  whirling  in  perpetual  transformation.  Every  corner 
is  crammed,  every  crevice  is  possessed.  Embryos  expand 
themselves,  and  giant-forms  contract  into  the  size  of  nuts. 
Unhappily  the  black- artist  has  forgot  the  counterword,  with 
which  he  might  command  this  flood  of  sprites  again  to  ebb. 

So  sat  Wilhelm  in  his  privacy :  with  unknown  movements, 
a  thousand  feelings  and  capacities  awoke  in  him,  of  which 
he  formerly  had  neither  notion  nor  anticipation.  Nothing 
could  allure  him  from  this  state :  he  was  vexed  and  restless 
if  any  one  presumed  to  come  to  him,  and  talk  of  news  or 
what  was  passing  in  the  world. 

Accordingly,  he  scarce  took  notice  of  the  circumstance, 
when  told  that  a  judicial  sentence  was  about  being  executed 
in  the  castle-yard,  —  the  flogging  of  a  boy,  who  had  incurred 
suspicions  of  nocturnal  housebreaking,  and  who,  as  he  wore 
a  peruke-maker's  coat,  had  most  probably  been  one  of  the 
assaulters  of  the  Pedant.  The  boy  indeed,  it  seemed,  denied 
most  obstinately ;  so  that  they  could  not  inflict  a  formal  pun- 
ishment, but  meant  to  give  him  a  slight  memorial  as  a  vaga- 
bond, and  send  him  about  his  business ;  he  having  prowled 
about  the  neighborhood  for  several  days,  lain  at  night  in  the 
mills,  and  at  last  clapped  a  ladder  to  the  garden- wall,  and 
mounted  over  by  it. 

Our  friend  saw  nothing  very  strange  in  the  transaction,  and 
was  dismissing  it  altogether,  when  Mignon  came  running  in, 
and  assured  him  that  the  criminal  was.Friedrich,  who,  since 
the  rencounter  with  the  Stallmeister,  had  vanished  from  the 
company,  and  not  again  been  heard  of. 

Feeling  an  interest  in  the  boy,  Wilhelm  hastily  arose :  he 
found,  in  the  court-yard  of  the  castle,  the  preparations  almost 
finished.  The  count  loved  solemnity  on  these  occasions.  The 
boy  being  now  led  out,  our  friend  stepped  forward,  and  en- 
treated for  delay,  as  he  knew  the  boy,  and  had  various  things 
to  say  which  might,  perhaps,  throw  light  on  the  affair.  He 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  171 

had  difficulty  in  succeeding,  notwithstanding  all  his  state- 
ments :  at  length,  however,  he  did  get  permission  to  speak 
with  the  culprit  in  private.  Friedrich  averred,  that,  concern- 
ing the  assault  in  which  the  Pedant  had  been  used  so  harshly, 
he  knew  nothing  whatever.  He  had  merely  been  lurking 
about,  and  had  come  in  at  night  to  see  Philina,  whose  room 
he  had  discovered,  and  would  certainly  have  reached,  had  he 
not  been  taken  by  the  way. 

For  the  credit  of  the  company,  Wilhelm  felt  desirous  not 
to  have  the  truth  of  his  adventure  published.  He  hastened  to 
the  Stallmeister :  he  begged  him  to  show  favor,  and,  with 
his  intimate  knowledge  of  men  and  things  about  the  castle, 
to  find  some  means  of  quashing  the  affair,  and  dismissing  the 
boy. 

This  whimsical  gentleman,  by  Wilhelm's  help,  invented  a 
little  story, — how  the  boy  had  belonged  to  the  troop,  had  run 
away  from  it,  but  soon  wished  to  get  back,  and  be  received 
again  into  his  place  ;  how  he  had  accordingly  been  trying  in 
the  night  to  come  at  certain  of  his  well-wishers,  and  solicit 
their  assistance.  It  was  testified  by  others  that  his  former 
behavior  had  been  good :  the  ladies  put  their  hands  to  the 
work,  and  Friedrich  was  let  go. 

Wilhelm  took  him  in,  —  a  third  person  in  that  strange  fam- 
ily, which  for  some  time  he  had  looked  on  as  his  own.  The 
old  man  and  little  Mignon  received  the  returning  wanderer 
kindly ;  and  all  the  three  combined  to  serve  their  friend  and 
guardian  with  attention,  and  procure  him  all  the  pleasure  in 
their  power. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PHILINA  now  succeeded  in  insinuating  farther  every  day 
into  the  favor  of  the  ladies.  Whenever  they  were  by  them- 
selves, she  was  wont  to  lead  the  conversation  on  the  men 
whom  they  saw  about  the  castle  ;  and  our  friend  was  not  the 
last  or  least  important  that  engaged  them.  The  cunning  girl 
was  well  aware  that  he  had  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
countess :  she  therefore  talked  about  him  often,  telling  much 
that  she  knew  or  did  not  know,  only  taking  care  to  speak  of 
nothing  that  might  be  interpreted  against  him  ;  eulogizing,  on 
the  contrary,  his  nobleness  of  mind,  his  generosity,  and,  more 


172  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

than  all,  his  modest  and  respectful  conduct  to  the  fair  sex. 
To  all  inquiries  made  about  him  she  replied  with  equal  pru- 
dence ;  and  the  baroness,  when  she  observed  the  growing 
inclination  of  her  amiable  friend,  was  likewise  very  glad  at 
the  discovery.  Her  own  intrigues  with  several  men,  espe- 
cially of  late  with  Jarno,  had  not  remained  hidden  from  the 
countess,  whose  pure  soul  could  not  look  upon  such  levities 
without  disapprobation,  and  meek,  though  earnest,  cen- 
sures. 

In  this  way  both  Philina  and  the  baroness  were  personally 
interested  in  establishing  a  closer  intercourse  between  the 
countess  and  our  friend.  Philina  hoped,  moreover,  that  there 
would  occur  some  opportunity  when  she  might  once  more 
labor  for  herself,  and,  if  possible,  get  back  the  favor  of  the 
young  man  she  had  lost. 

One  day  his  lordship,  with  his  guests,  had  ridden  out  to 
hunt;  and  their  return  was  not  expected  till  the  morrow. 
On  this  the  baroness  devised  a  frolic,  which  was  altogether 
in  her  way,  for  she  loved  disguises,  and,  in  order  to  surprise 
her  friends,  would  suddenly  appear  among  them  as  a  peasant- 
girl  at  one  time,  at  another  as  a  page,  at  another  as  a  hun- 
ter' s  boy.  By  which  means  she  almost  gave  herself  the  air 
of  a  little  fairy,  that  is  present  everywhere,  and  exactly  in 
the  place  where  it  is  least  expected.  Nothing  could  exceed 
this  lady's  joy,  if,  without  being  recognized,  she  could  con- 
trive to  wait  upon  the  company  for  some  time  as  a  servant, 
or  mix  among  them  anyhow,  and  then  at  last  in  some  sport- 
ful way  disclose  herself. 

Towards  night  she  sent  for  Wilhelm  to  her  chamber,  and, 
happening  to  have  something  else  to  do  just  then,  left  Phi- 
lina to  receive  and  prepare  him. 

He  arrived,  and  found  to  his  surprise,  not  the  honorable 
lady,  but  the  giddy  girl,  in  the  room.  She  received  him  with 
a  certain  dignified  openness  of  manner,  which  she  had  of 
late  been  practising,  and  so  constrained  him  likewise  to  be 
courteous. 

At  first  she  rallied  him  in  general  on  the  good  fortune 
which  pursued  him  everywhere,  and  which,  as  she  could  not 
but  see,  had  led  him  hither  in  the  present  case.  Then  she 
delicately  set  before  him  the  treatment  with  which  of  late  he 
had  afflicted  her ;  she  blamed  and  upbraided  herself ;  con- 
fessed that  she  had  but  too  well  deserved  such  punishment ; 
described  with  the  greatest  candor  what  she  called  her  former 
situation  ;  adding,  that  she  would  despise  herself,  if  she  were 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  173 

not  capable  of  altering,  and  making  herself  worthy  of  his 
frienship. 

Wilhelm  was  struck  with  this  oration.  He  had  too  little 
knowledge  of  the  world  to  understand  that  persons  quite 
unstable,  and  incapable  of  all  improvement,  frequently  accuse 
themselves  in  the  bitterest  manner,  confessing  and  deploring 
their  faults  with  extreme  ingenuousness,  though  they  possess 
not  the  smallest  power  within  them  to  retire  from  that  course, 
along  which  the  irresistible  tendency  of  their  nature  is  drag- 
ging them  forward.  Accordingly,  he  could  not  find  in  his 
heart  to  behave  inexorably  to  the  graceful  sinner :  he  entered 
into  conversation,  and  learned  from  her  the  project  of  a 
singular  disguisement,  wherewith  it  was  intended  to  surprise 
the  countess. 

He  found  some  room  for  hesitation  here,  nor  did  he  hide 
his  scruples  from  Philina :  but  the  baroness,  entering  at  this 
moment,  left  him  not  an  instant  for  reflection ;  she  hurried 
him  away  with  her,  declaring  it  was  just  the  proper  hour. 

It  was  now  grown  dark.  She  took  him  to  the  count's 
wardrobe,  made  him  change  his  own  coat  with  his  lordship's 
silk  night-gown,  and  put  the  cap  with  red  trimmings  on  his 
head.  She  then  led  him  forward  to  the  cabinet ;  and  bidding 
him  sit  down  upon  the  large  chair,  and  take  a  book,  she  lit 
the  Argand  lamp  which  stood  before  him,  and  showed  him 
what  he  was  to  do,  and  what  kind  of  part  he  had  to 
play. 

They  would  inform  the  countess,  she  said,  of  her  husband's 
unexpected  arrival,  and  that  he  was  in  very  bad  humor.  The 
countess  would  come  in,  walk  up  and  down  the  room  once 
or  twice,  then  place  herself  beside  the  back  of  his  chair,  lay 
her  arm  upon  his  shoulder,  and  speak  a  few  words.  He  was 
to  play  the  cross  husband  as  long  and  as  well  as  possible  ; 
and,  when  obliged  to  disclose  himself,  he  must  behave  politely, 
handsomely,  and  gallantly. 

Wilhelm  was  left  sitting,  restlessly  enough,  in  this  singular 
mask.  The  proposal  had  come  upon  him  by  surprise :  the 
execution  of  it  got  the  start  of  the  deliberation.  The  bar- 
oness had  vanished  from  the  room,  before  he  saw  how  dan- 
gerous the  post  was  which  he  had  engaged  to  fill.  He  could 
not  deny  that  the  beauty,  the  youth,  the  gracefulness,  of  the 
countess  had  made  some  impression  on  him  :  but  his  nature 
was  entirely  averse  to  all  empty  gallantly,  and  his  principles 
forbade  any  thought  of  more  serious  enterprises  ;  so  that  his 
perplexity  at  this  moment  was  in  truth  extreme.  The  fear 


174  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  displeasing  the  countess,  and  that  of  pleasing  her  too 
well,  were  equally  busy  in  his  mind. 

Every  female  charm  that  had  ever  acted  on  him,  now 
showed  itself  again  to  his  imagination.  Mariana  rose  before 
him  in  her  white  morning-gown,  and  entreated  his  remem- 
brance. Philina's  loveliness,  her  beautiful  hair,  her  insinuat- 
ing blandishments,  had  again  become  attractive  by  her  late 
presence.  Yet  all  this  retired  as  if  behind  the  veil  of  distance, 
when  he  figured  to  himself  the  noble,  blooming  countess, 
whose  arm  in  a  few  minutes  he  would  feel  upon  his  neck, 
whose  innocent  caresses  he  was  there  to  answer. 

The  strange  mode  in  which  he  was  to  be  delivered  out  of 
this  perplexity  he  certainly  did  not  anticipate.  We  may 
judge  of  his  astonishment,  nay,  his  terror,  when  the  door 
opened  behind  him  ;  and,  at  the  first  stolen  look  in  the  mirror, 
he  quite  clearly  discerned  the  count  coming  in  with  a  light  in 
his  hand.  His  doubt  what  he  should  do,  whether  he  should 
sit  still  or  rise,  should  flee,  confess,  deny,  or  beg  forgiveness, 
lasted  but  a  few  instants.  The  count,  who  had  remained 
motionless  standing  in  the  door,  retired,  and  shut  it  softly. 
At  the  same  moment,  the  baroness  sprang  forward  by  the 
side-door,  extinguished  the  lamp,  tore  Wilhelm  from  his  chair, 
and  hurried  him  with  her  into  the  closet.  Instantly  he  threw 
off  the  night-gown,  and  put  it  in  its  former  place.  The 
baroness  took  his  coat  under  her  arm,  and  hastened  with  him 
through  several  rooms,  passages,  and  partitions  into  her 
chamber,  where  Wilhelm,  so  soon  as  she  recovered  breath, 
was  informed,  that  on  her  going  to  the  countess,  and  deliver- 
ing the  fictitious  intelligence  about  her  husband's  arrival,  the 
countess  had  answered,  "  I  know  it  already :  what  can  have 
happened?  I  saw  him  riding  in,  at  the  postern,  even  now." 
On  which  the  baroness,  in  an  excessive  panic,  had  run  to  the 
count's  chamber  to  give  warning. 

"  Unhappily  you  came  too  late  !  "  said  Wilhelm.  *'  The 
count  was  in  the  room  before  you,  and  saw  me  sitting." 

"  And  recognized  you?  " 

' '  That  I  know  not.  He  was  looking  at  me  in  the  glass, 
as  I  at  him;  and,  before  I  could  well  determine  whether  it 
was  he  or  a  spirit,  he  drew  back,  and  closed  the  door  behind 
him." 

The  anxiety  of  the  baroness  increased,  when  a  servant 
came  to  call  her,  signifying  that  the  count  was  with  his  lady. 
She  went  with  no  light  heart,  and  found  the  count  silent 
and  thoughtful,  indeed,  but  milder  and  kinder  in  his  words 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  175 

than  usual.  She  knew  not  what  to  think  of  it.  They  spoke 
about  the  incidents  of  the  chase,  and  the  causes  of  his  quick 
return.  The  conversation  soon  ran  out.  The  count  became 
taciturn ;  and  it  struck  the  baroness  particularly,  when  he 
asked  for  Wilhelm,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  he  were  sent 
for,  to  come  and  read  something. 

Wilhelm,  who  had  now  dressed  himself  in  the  baroness's 
chamber,  and  in  some  degree  recovered  his  composure, 
obeyed  the  order,  not  without  anxiety.  The  count  gave  him 
a  book,  out  of  which  he  read  an  adventurous  tale,  very  little 
at  his  ease.  His  voice  had  a  certain  inconstancy  and  quiver- 
ing in  it,  which  fortunately  corresponded  with  the  import  of 
the  story.  The  count  more  than  once  gave  kindly  tokens 
of  approval,  and  at  last  dismissed  our  friend,  with  praises 
of  his  exquisite  manner  of  reading. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WILHELM  had  scarcely  read  one  or  two  of  Shakspeare's 
plays,  till  their  effect  on  him  became  so  strong  that  he  could 
go  no  farther.  His  whole  soul  was  in  commotion.  He 
sought  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  Jarno ;  to  whom,  on 
meeting  with  him,  he  expressed  his  boundless  gratitude  for 
such  delicious  entertainment. 

"  I  clearly  enough  foresaw,"  said  Jarno,  "  that  you  would 
not  remain  insensible  to  the  charms  of  the  most  extraordinary 
and  most  admirable  of  all  writers." 

"  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  our  friend :  "I  cannot  recollect  that 
any  book,  any  man,  any  incident  of  my  life,  has  produced  such 
important  effects  on  me,  as  the  precious  works  to  which  by 
your  kindness  I  have  been  directed.  They  seem  as  if  they 
were  performances  of  some  celestial  genius,  descending 
among  men,  to  make  them,  by  the  mildest  instructions,  ac- 
quainted with  themselves.  They  are  no  fictions !  You 
would  think,  while  reading  them,  you  stood  before  the  un- 
closed awful  Books  of  Fate,  while  the  whirlwind  of  most 
impassioned  life  was  howling  through  the  leaves,  and  tossing 
them  fiercely  to  and  fro.  The  strength  and  tenderness,  the 
power  and  peacefuluess,  of  this  man,  have  so  astonished  and 
transported  me,  that  I  long  vehemently  for  the  time  when  I 
shall  have  it  in  my  power  to  read  farther." 


176  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Bravo  !  "  said  Jarno,  holding  out  his  hand,  and  squeez- 
ing our  friend's.  "  This  is  as  it  should  be  !  And  the  con- 
sequences, which  I  hope  for,  will  likewise  surely  follow." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  could  but  disclose  to  yon  all 
that  is  going  on  within  me  even  now.  All  the  anticipations  I 
have  ever  had  regarding  man  and  his  destiny,  which  have 
accompanied  me  from  youth  upwards,  often  unobserved  by 
mj'self,  I  find  developed  and  fulfilled  in  Shakspeare's  writ- 
ings. It  seems  as  if  he  cleared  up  every  one  of  our  enigmas 
to  us,  though  we  cannot  say,  Here  or  there  is  the  word  of 
solution.  His  men  appear  like  natural  men,  and  yet  they 
are  not.  These,  the  most  mysterious  and  complex  produc- 
tions of  creation,  here  act  before  us  as  if  they  were  watches, 
whose  dial-plates  and  cases  were  of  crystal,  which  pointed 
out,  according  to  their  use,  the  course  of  the  hours  and 
minutes ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  you  could  discern  the 
combination  of  wheels  and  springs  that  turned  them.  The 
few  glances  I  have  cast  over  Shakspeare's  world  incite  me, 
more  than  any  thing  beside,  to  quicken  my  footsteps  forward 
into  the  actual  world,  to  mingle  in  the  flood  of  destinies  that 
is  suspended  over  it,  and  at  length,  if  I  shall  prosper,  to 
draw  a  few  cups  from  the  great  ocean  of  true  nature,  and 
to  distribute  them  from  off  the  stage  among  the  thirsting 
people  of  my  native  land." 

' '  I  feel  delighted  with  the  temper  of  mind  in  which  I  now 
behold  you,"  answered  Jarno,  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
shoulder  of  the  excited  youth :  ' '  renounce  not  the  purpose 
of  embarking  in  active  life.  Make  haste  to  employ  with 
alacrity  the  years  that  are  granted  you.  If  I  can  serve  you, 
I  will  with  all  my  heart.  As  yet  I  have  not  asked  you  how 
you  came  into  this  troop,  for  which  you  certainly  were 
neither  born  nor  bred.  So  much  I  hope  and  see,  —  you  long 
to  be  out  of  it.  I  know  nothing  of  your  parentage,  of  your 
domestic  circumstances  :  consider  what  you  shall  confide  to 
me.  Thus  much  only  I  can  say  :  the  times  of  war  we  live  in 
may  produce  quick  turns  of  fortune  ;  did  you  incline  devot- 
ing your  strength  and  talents  to  our  service,  not  fearing 
labor,  and,  if  need  were,  danger,  I  might  even  now  have  an 
opportunity  to  put  you  in  a  situation,  which  you  would  not 
afterwards  be  sorry  to  have  filled  for  a  time."  Wilhelm 
could  not  sufficiently  express  his  gratitude :  he  was  ready 
to  impart  to  his  friend  and  patron  the  whole  history  of  his 
life. 

In  the  course  of  this  conversation,  they  had  wandered  far 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  177 

into  the  park,  and  at  last  came  upon  the  highway  that 
crossed  it.  Jarno  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
"  Deliberate  on  my  proposal,  determine,  give  me  your  an- 
swer in  a  few  days,  and  then  let  me  have  the  narrative  you 
mean  to  trust  me  with.  I  assure  you,  it  has  all  along  to  me 
seemed  quite  incomprehensible  how  you  ever  could  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  such  a  class  of  people.  I  have  often  thought 
with  spleen  and  disgust,  how,  in  order  to  gain  a  paltry  living, 
you  must  fix  your  heart  on  a  wandering  ballad-monger,  and 
a  silly  mongrel,  neither  male  nor  female." 

He  had  not  yet  concluded,  when  an  officer  on  horseback 
came  hastily  along ;  a  groom  following  him  with  a  led  horse. 
Jarno  shouted  a  warm  salutation  to  him.  The  officer  sprang 
from  his  horse ;  Jarno  and  he  embraced  and  talked  together ; 
while  Wilhelm,  confounded  at  the  last  expressions  of  his  war- 
like friend,  stood  thoughtfully  at  a  side.  Jarno  turned  over 
some  papers  which  the  stranger  had  delivered  to  him ;  while 
the  latter  came  to  Wilhelm,  held  out  his  hand,  and  said  with 
emphasis,  "  I  find  you  in  worthy  company :  follow  the  coun- 
sel of  your  friend,  and,  by  doing  so,  accomplish  likewise  the 
desire  of  an  unknown  man,  who  takes  a  genuine  interest  in 
you."  So  saying,  lie  embraced  Wilhelm,  and  pressed  him 
cordially  to  his  breast.  At  the  same  instant  Jaruo  advanced, 
and  said  to  the  stranger,  "  It  is  best  that  I  ride  on  with  you  : 
by  this  means  you  may  get  the  necessary  orders,  and  set  out 
again  before  night."  Both  then  leaped  into  their  saddles, 
and  left  our  astonished  friend  to  his  own  reflections. 

Jarno' s  last  words  were  still  ringing  in  his  ears.  It  galled 
him  to  see  the  two  human  beings  that  had  most  innocently 
won  his  affections  so  grievously  disparaged  by  a  man  whom 
he  honored  so  much.  The  strange  embracing  of  the  officer, 
whom  he  knew  not,*made  but  a  slight  impression  on  him  ;  it 
occupied  his  curiosity  and  his  imagination  for  a  moment :  but 
Jaruo' s  speech  had  cut  him  to  the  heart ;  he  was  deeply  hurt 
by  it :  and  now,  in  his  way  homewards,  he  broke  out  into  re- 
proaches against  himself,  that  he  should  for  a  single  instant 
have  mistaken  or  forgotten  the  unfeeling  coldness  of  Jarno, 
which  looked  out  from  his  very  eyes,  and  spoke  in  all  his 
gestures.  "  No!  "  exclaimed  he,  "  thou  conceivest,  dead- 
hearted  worldling,  that  thou  canst  be  a  friend  !  All  that  thou 
hast  power  to  offer  me  is  not  worth  the  sentiment  which  binds 
me  to  these  forlorn  beings.  How  fortunate  that  I  have 
discovered  in  time  what  I  had  to  expect  from  thee  !  " 

Mignon  came  to  meet  him  as  he  entered :  he  clasped  her 


178  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

in  his  arms,  exclaiming,  "Nothing,  nothing,  shall  part  us, 
thou  good  little  creature !  The  seeming  prudence  of  the 
world  shall  never  cause  me  to  forsake  thee,  or  forget  what  I 
owe  thee  ! ' ' 

The  child,  whose  warm  caresses  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  avoid,  rejoiced  with  all  her  heart  at  this  unlooked-for 
show  of  tenderness,  and  clung  so  fast  to  him  that  he  had 
some  difficulty  to  get  loose  from  her. 

From  this  period  he  kept  a  stricter  eye  on  Jarno's  con- 
duct :  many  parts  of  it  he  did  not  think  quite  praiseworthy  ; 
nay,  several  things  came  out  which  totally  displeased  him. 
He  had  strong  suspicions,  for  example,  that  the  verses  on 
the  baron,  which  the  poor  Pedant  had  so  dearly  paid  for, 
were  composed  by  Jarno.  And  as  the  latter,  in  Wilhelm's 
presence,  had  made  sport  of  the  adventure,  our  friend 
thought  here  was  certainly  a  symptom  of  a  most  corrupted 
heart ;  for  what  could  be  more  depraved  than  to  treat  a 
guiltless  person,  whose  griefs  one's  self  had  occasioned, 
with  jeering  and  mockery,  instead  of  trying  to  satisfy  or  to 
indemnify  him?  In  this  matter  Wilhelm  would  himself 
willingly  have  brought  about  reparation  ;  and  erelong  a  very 
curious  accident  led  him  to  obtain  some  traces  of  the  persons 
concerned  in  that  nocturnal  outrage. 

Hitherto  his  friends  had  contrived  to  keep  him  un- 
acquainted with  the  fact,  that  some  of  the  young  officers 
were  in  the  habit  of  passing  whole  nights  in  merriment  and 
jollity,  with  certain  actors  and  actresses,  in  the  lower  hall 
of  the  old  castle.  One  morning,  having  risen  early,  accord- 
ing to  his  custom,  he  happened  to  visit  this  chamber,  and 
found  the  gallant  gentlemen  just  in  the  act  of  performing 
rather  a  singular  operation.  They  had  mixed  a  bowl  of 
water  with  a  quantity  of  chalk,  and  w^re  plastering  this 
gruel  with  a  brush  upon  their  waistcoats  and  pantaloons, 
without  stripping ;  thus  very  expeditiously  restoring  the 
spotlessness  of  their  apparel.  On  witnessing  this  piece  of 
ingenuity,  our  friend  was  at  once  struck  with  the  recollection 
of  the  poor  Pedant's  whited  and  bedusted  coat :  his  suspi- 
cions gathered  strength  when  he  learned  that  some  relations 
of  the  baron  were  among  the  party. 

To  throw  some  light  on  his  doubts,  he  engaged  the  youths 
to  breakfast  with  him.  They  were  very  lively,  and  told  a 
multitude  of  pleasant  stories.  One  of  them  especially,  who 
for  a  time  had  been  on  the  recruiting-service,  was  loud  in 
praising  the  craft  and  activity  of  his  captain  ;  who,  it  ap- 


METSTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  179 

peared,  understood  the  art  of  alluring  men  of  all  kinds 
towards  him,  and  overreaching  every  one  by  the  deception 
proper  for  him.  He  circumstantially  described  how  several 
young  people  of  good  families  and  careful  education  had 
been  cozened,  by  playing  off  to  them  a  thousand  promises 
of  honor  and  preferment ;  and  he  heartily  laughed  at  the 
simpletons,  who  felt  so  gratified,  when  first  enlisted,  at  the 
thought  of  being  esteemed  and  introduced  to  notice  by  so 
reputable,  prudent,  bold,  and  munificent  an  officer. 

Wilhelm  blessed  his  better  genius  for  having  drawn  him 
back  in  time  from  the  abyss  to  whose  brink  he  had  ap- 
proached so  near.  Jarno  he  now  looked  upon  as  nothing 
better  than  a  crimp  :  the  embrace  of  the  stranger  officer  was 
easily  explained.  He  viewed  the  feelings  and  opinions  of 
these  men  with  contempt  and  disgust ;  from  that  moment  he 
carefully  avoided  coming  into  contact  with  any  one  that  wore 
a  uniform  ;  and,  when  he  heard  that  the  army  was  about  to 
move  its  quarters,  the  news  would  have  been  extremely  wel- 
come to  him,  if  he  had  not  feared,  that,  immediately  on  its 
departure,  he  himself  must  be  banished  from  the  neighbor- 
hood of  his  lovely  friend,  perhaps  forever. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MEAXWHILE  the  baroness  had  spent  several  days  disqui- 
eted by  anxious  fears  and  unsatisfied  curiosity.  Since  the 
late  adventure,  the  count's  demeanor  had  been  altogether  an 
enigma  to  her.  His  manner  was  changed  :  none  of  his  cus- 
tomary jokes  were  to  be  heard.  His  demands  on  the  com- 
pany and  the  servants  had  very  much  abated.  Little  pedantry 
or  imperiousuess  was  now  to  be  discerned  in  him ;  he  was 
silent  and  thoughtful,  yet  withal  he  seemed  composed  and 
placid ;  in  short,  he  was  quite  another  man.  In  choosing 
the  books,  which  now  and  then  he  caused  to  be  read  to  him, 
those  of  a  serious,  often  a  religious,  cast,  were  pitched 
upon ;  and  the  baroness  lived  in  perpetual  fright  lest, 
beneath  this  apparent  serenitj^,  a  secret  rancor  might  be 
lurking,  —  a  silent  purpose  to  revenge  the  offence  he  had  so 
accidentally  discovered.  She  determined,  therefore,  to  make 
Jarno  her  confidant ;  and  this  the  more  freely,  as  that  gen- 


180  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

tleman  and  she  alread}'  stood  in  a  relation  to  each  other 
where  it  is  not  usual  to  be  very  cautious  in  keeping  secrets. 
For  some  time  Jarno  had  been  her  dearest  friend,  yet  they 
had  been  dexterous  enough  to  conceal  their  attachment  and 
joys  from  the  noisy  world  in  which  they  moved.  To  the 
countess  alone  this  new  romance  had  not  remained  unknown  ; 
and  very  possibly  the  baroness  might  wish  to  get  her  fair 
friend  occupied  with  some  similar  engagement,  and  thus  to 
escape  the  silent  reproaches  she  had  often  to  endure  from 
that  noble-minded  woman. 

Scarcely  had  the  baroness  related  the  occurrence  to  her 
lover,  when  he  cried  out  laughing,  "To  a  certainty  the  old 
fool  believes  that  he  has  seen  his  ghost !  He  dreads  that 
the  vision  may  betoken  some  misfortune,  perhaps  death,  to 
him  ;  and  so  he  is  become  quite  tame,  as  all  half-men  do,  in 
thinking  of  that  consummation  which  no  one  has  escaped 
or  will  escape.  Softly  a  little  !  As  I  hope  he  will  live  long 
enough,  we  may  now  train  him  at  least,  so  that  he  shall  not 
again  give  disturbance  to  his  wife  and  household." 

They  accordingly,  as  soon  as  any  opportunity  occurred, 
began  talking,  in  the  presence  of  the  count,  about  warnings, 
visions,  apparitions,  and  the  like.  Jarno  played  the  sceptic, 
the  baroness  likewise ;  and  they  carried  it  so  far,  that  his 
lordship  at  last  took  Jarno  aside,  reproved  him  for  his  free- 
thinking,  and  produced  his  own  experience  to  prove  the  pos- 
sibility, nay,  actual  occurrence,  of  such  preternatural  events. 
Jarno  affected  to  be  struck,  to  be  in  doubt,  and  finally  to 
be  convinced ;  but,  in  private  with  his  friend,  he  made  him- 
self so  much  the  merrier  at  the  credulous  weakling,  who  had 
thus  been  cured  of  his  evil  habits  by  a  bugbear,  but  who, 
they  admitted,  still  deserved  some  praise  for  expecting  dire 
calamity,  or  death  itself,  with  such  composure. 

"  The  natural  result  which  the  present  apparition  might 
have  had,  would  possibly  have  ruffled  him  !  "  exclaimed 
the  baroness,  with  her  wonted  vivacity ;  to  which,  when 
anxiety  was  taken  from  her  heart,  she  had  instantly  re- 
turned. Jarno  was  richly  rewarded ;  and  the  two  con- 
trived fresh  projects  for  frightening  the  count  still  further, 
and  still  further  exciting  and  confirming  the  affection  of  the 
countess  for  Wilhelm. 

"With  this  intention,  the  whole  story  was  related  to  the 
countess.  She,  indeed,  expressed  her  displeasure  at  such 
conduct;  but  from  that  time  she  became  more  thoughtful, 
and  in  peaceful  moments  seemed  to  be  considering,  pursuing, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  181 

and  painting  out  that  scene  which  had  been  prepared  for 
her. 

The  preparations  now  going  forward  on  every  side  left  no 
room  for  doubt  that  the  armies  were  soon  to  move  in  ad- 
vance, and  the  prince  at  the  same  time  to  change  his  head- 
quarters. It  was  even  said  that  the  count  intended  leaving 
his  castle,  and  returning  to  the  city.  Our  players  could 
therefore,  without  difficulty,  calculate  the  aspect  of  their 
stars  ;  yet  none  of  them,  except  Melina,  took  any  measures  in 
consequence  :  the  rest  strove  only  to  catch  as  much  enjoyment 
as  they  could  from  the  moment  that  was  passing  over  them. 

Wilhelm,  in  the  mean  time,  was  engaged  with  a  peculiar 
task.  The  countess  had  required  from  him  a  copy  of  his 
writings,  and  he  looked  on  this  request  as  the  noblest  recom- 
pense for  his  labors. 

A  young  author,  who  has  not  yet  seen  himself  in  print, 
will,  in  such  a  case,  apply  no  ordinary  care  to  provide  a 
clear  and  beautiful  transcript  of  his  works.  It  is  like  the 
golden  age  of  authorship :  he  feels  transported  into  those 
centuries  when  the  press  had  not  inundated  the  world  with 
so  many  useless  writings,  when  none  but  excellent  perform- 
ances were  copied,  and  kept  by  the  noblest  men ;  and  he 
easily  admits  the  illusion,  that  his  own  accurately  ruled  and 
measured  manuscript  may  itself  prove  an  excellent  perform- 
ance, worthy  to  be  kept  and  valued  by  some  future  critic. 

The  prince  being  shortly  to  depart,  a  great  entertainment 
had  been  appointed  in  honor  of  him.  Many  ladies  of  the 
neighborhood  were  invited,  and  the  countess  had  dressed 
betimes.  On  this  occasion  she  had  taken  a  costlier  suit 
than  usual.  Her  head-dress,  and  the  decorations  of  her 
hair,  were  more  exquisite  and  studied :  she  wore  all  her 
jewels.  The  baroness,  too,  had  done  her  utmost  to  appear 
with  becoming  taste  and  splendor. 

Fhilina,  observing  that  both  ladies,  in  expectation  of  their 
guests,  felt  the  time  rather  tedious,  proposed  to  send  for 
Wilhelm,  who  was  wishing  to  present  his  manuscript,  now 
completed,  and  to  read  them  some  other  little  pieces.  He 
came,  and  on  his  entrance  was  astonished  at  the  form  and 
the  graces  of  the  countess,  which  her  decorations  had  but 
made  more  visible  and  striking.  Being  ordered  by  the  la- 
dies, he  began  to  read ;  but  with  so  much  absence  of  mind, 
and  so  badly,  that,  had  not  his  audience  been  excessively 
indulgent,  they  would  very  soon  have  dismissed  him. 

Every  time  he  looked  at  the  countess,  it  seemed  to  him  as 


182  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

if  a  spark  of  electric  fire  were  glancing  before  his  eyes.  In 
the  end  he  knew  not  where  to  find  the  breath  he  wanted  for 
his  reading.  The  countess  had  always  pleased  him,  but 
now  it  appeared  as  if  he  never  had  beheld  a  being  so  perfect 
and  so  lovely.  A  thousand  thoughts  flitted  up  and  down 
his  soul :  what  follows  might  be  nearly  their  substance. 

"How  foolish  is  it  in  so  many  poets,  and  men  of  senti- 
ment as  they  are  called,  to  make  war  on  pomp  and  decora- 
tion ;  requiring  that  women  of  all  ranks  should  wear  no 
dress  but  what  is  simple,  and  conformable  to  nature  !  They 
rail  at  decoration,  without  once  considering,  that,  when  we 
see  a  plain  or  positively  ugly  person  clothed  in  a  costly  and 
gorgeous  fashion,  it  is  not  the  poor  decoration  that  dis- 
pleases us.  I  would  assemble  all  the  judges  in  the  world, 
and  ask  them  here  if  they  wished  to  see  one  of  these  folds, 
of  these  ribbons  and  laces,  these  braids,  ringlets,  and  glan- 
cing stones,  removed?  Would  they  not  dread  disturbing  the 
delightful  impression  that  so  naturally  and  spontaneously 
meets  us  here?  Yes,  naturally  I  will  say!  As  Minerva 
sprang  in  complete  armor  from  the  head  of  Jove ;  so  floes 
this  goddess  seem  to  have  stepped  forth  with  a  light  foot,  in 
all  her  ornaments,  from  the  bosom  of  some  flower." 

While  reading,  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  her  frequently,  as 
if  he  wished  to  stamp  this  image  on  his  soul  forever:  he 
more  than  once  read  wrong,  yet  without  falling  into  confus- 
ion of  mind ;  though,  at  other  times,  he  used  to  feel  the  mis- 
taking of  a  word  or  a  letter  as  a  painful  deformity,  which 
spoiled  a  whole  recitation. 

A  false  alarm  of  the  arrival  of  the  guests  put  an  end  to 
the  reading ;  the  baroness  went  out ;  and  the  countess, 
while  about  to  shut  her  writing-desk,  which  was  standing 
open,  took  up  her  casket,  and  put  some  other  rings  upon  her 
finger.  "We  are  soon  to  part,"  said  she,  keeping  her  eyes 
upon  the  casket:  "  accept  a  memorial  of  a  true  friend,  who 
wishes  nothing  more  earnestly  than  that  you  may  always 
prosper."  She  then  took  out  a  ring,  which,  underneath  a 
crystal,  bore  a  little  plait  of  woven  hair  beautifully  set  with 
diamonds.  She  held  it  out  to  Wilhelm,  who,  on  taking  it, 
knew  neither  what  to  sa}*  nor  do,  but  stood  as  if  rooted  to 
the  ground.  The  countess  shut  her  desk,  and  sat  down 
upon  the  sofa. 

"  And  I  must  go  empty?  "  said  Philina,  kneeling  down  at 
the  countess's  right  hand.  "  Do  but  look  at  the  man :  he 
carries  such  a  store  of  words  in  his  mouth,  when  no  one 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  183 

wants  to  hear  them ;  and  now  he  cannot  stammer  out  the 
poorest  syllable  of  thanks.  Quick,  sir !  Express  your  ser- 
vices by  way  of  pantomime  at  least ;  and  if  to-day  you  can 
invent  nothing,  then,  for  Heaven's  sake,  be  my  imitator." 

Philina  seized  the  right  hand  of  the  countess,  and  kissed 
it  warmly.  Wilhelm  sank  upon  his  knee,  laid  hold  of  the 
left,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  The  countess  seemed  em- 
barrassed, yet  without  displeasure. 

"Ah!"  cried  Philina,  "so  much  splendor  of  attire,  I 
may  have  seen  before,  but  never  one  so  fit  to  wear  it.  What 
bracelets,  but  also  what  a  hand!  What  a  neckdress,  but 
also  what  a  bosom." 

"  Peace,  little  cozener !  "  said  the  countess. 

"Is  this  his  lordship,  then?  "  said  Philina,  pointing  to  a 
rich  medallion,  which  the  countess  wore  on  her  left  side,  by 
a  particular  chain. 

"He  is  painted  in  his  bridegroom-dress,"  replied  the 
countess. 

"  Was  he,  then,  so  young? "  inquired  Philina :  "  I  know  it 
is  but  a  year  or  two  since  you  were  married." 

"His  youth  must  be  placed  to  the  artist's  account,"  re- 
plied the  lady. 

"He  is  a  handsome  man,"  observed  Philina.  "But  was 
there  never,"  she  continued,  placing  her  hand  on  the  count- 
ess's heart,  "never  any  other  image  that  found  its  way  in 
secret  hither  ? ' ' 

"  Thou  art  very  bold,  Philina,"  cried  she  :  "  I  have  spoiled 
thee.  Let  me  never  hear  the  like  again." 

"  If  you  are  angry,  then  am  I  unhappy,"  said  Philina, 
springing  up,  and  hastening  from  the  room. 

Wilhelm  still  held  that  lovely  hand  in  both  of  his.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  bracelet-clasp :  he  noticed,  with  ex^ 
treme  surprise,  that  his  initials  were  traced  on  it,  in  lines 
of  brilliants. 

"Have  I,  then,"  he  modestly  inquired,  "your  own  hair 
in  this  precious  ring  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,"  replied  she  in  a  faint  voice:  then,  suddenly  col- 
lecting herself,  she  said,  and  pressed  his  ha.nd,  '*  Arise,  and 
fare  you  well ! ' ' 

"Here  is  my  name,"  cried  he,  "by  the  most  curious 
chance !  "  He  pointed  to  the  bracelet-clasp. 

"  How?  "  cried  the  countess  :  "  it  is  the  cipher  of  a  female 
friend !  " 

"They  are  the   initials  of  my  name.      Forget  me   not. 


184  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Your  image  is  engraven  on  my  heart,  and  will  never  be 
effaced.  Farewell !  I  must  be  gone." 

He  kissed  her  hand,  and  meant  to  rise ;  but,  as  in  dreams, 
some  strange  thing  fades  and  changes  into  something  stran- 
ger, and  the  succeeding  wonder  takes  us  by  surprise ;  so, 
without  knowing  how  it  happened,  he  found  the  countess  in 
his  arms :  her  lips  were  resting  upon  his,  and  their  warm 
mutual  kisses  were  yielding  them  that  blessedness  which 
mortals  sip  from  the  topmost  sparkling  foam  on  the  freshly 
poured  cup  of  love. 

Her  head  lay  on  his  shoulder :  the  disordered  ringlets  and 
ruffles  were  forgotten.  She  had  thrown  her  arm  round  him  : 
he  clasped  her  with  vivacity,  and  pressed  her  again  and 
again  to  his  breast.  Oh  that  such  a  moment  could  but  last 
forever !  And  woe  to  envious  Fate  that  shortened  even  this 
brief  moment  to  our  friends ! 

How  terrified  was  Wilhelm,  how  astounded  did  he  start 
from  his  happy  dream,  when  the  countess,  with  a  shriek,  on 
a  sudden  tore  herself  away,  and  hastily  pressed  her  hand 
against  her  heart. 

He  stood  confounded  before  her :  she  held  the  other  hand 
upon  her  eyes,  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,  exclaimed, 
"  Away !  leave  me !  delay  not !  " 

He  continued  standing. 

"Leave  me!  "  she  cried;  and,  taking  off  her  hand  from 
her  eyes,  she  looked  at  him  with  an  indescribable  expression 
of  countenance,  and  added,  in  the  most  tender  and  affecting 
voice,  "  Flee,  if  you  love  me." 

Wilhelm  was  out  of  the  chamber,  and  again  in  his  room, 
before  he  knew  what  he  was  doing. 

Unhappy  creatures  !  What  singular  warning  of  chance  or 
of  destiny  tore  them  asunder  ? 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  185 


BOOK    IY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

LAERTES  was  standing  at  the  window  in  a  thoughtful 
mood,  resting  on  his  arm,  and  looking  out  into  the  fields. 
Philina  came  gliding  towards  him,  across  the  large  hall :  she 
leaned  upon  him,  and  began  to  mock  him  for  his  serious 
looks. 

"  Do  not  laugh,"  replied  he :  "  it  is  frightful  to  think  how 
time  goes  on,  how  all  things  change  and  have  an  end.  See 
here !  A  little  while  ago  there  was  a  stately  camp :  how 
pleasantly  the  tents  looked !  what  restless  life  and  motion 
was  within  them !  how  carefully  they  watched  the  whole 
enclosure  !  And,  behold,  it  is  all  vanished  in  a  day !  For  a 
short  while,  that  trampled  straw,  those  holes  which  the  cooks 
have  dug,  will  show  a  trace  of  what  was  here  ;  and  soon  the 
whole  will  be  ploughed  and  reaped  as  formerly,  and  the  pres- 
ence of  so  many  thousand  gallant  fellows  in  this  quarter  will 
but  glimmer  in  the  memories  of  one  or  two  old  men." 

Philina  began  to  sing,  and  dragged  forth  her  friend  to 
dance  with  her  in  the  hall.  "  Since  Time  is  not  a  person  we 
can  overtake  when  he  is  past,"  cried  she,  "  let  us  honor  him 
with  mirth  and  cheerfulness  of  heart  while  he  is  passing." 

They  had  scarcely  made  a  step  or  two,  when  Frau  Melina 
came  walking  through  the  hall.  Philina  was  wicked  enough 
to  invite  her  to  join  them  in  the  dance,  and  thus  to  bring  her 
in  mind  of  the  shape  to  which  her  pregnancy  had  reduced 
her. 

"  That  I  might  never  more  see  a  woman  in  an  interesting 
situation  I ' '  said  Philina,  when  her  back  was  turned. 

"  Yet  she  feels  an  interest  in  it,"  said  Laertes. 

"  But  she  manages  so  shockingly.  Didst  thou  notice  that 
wabbling  fold  of  her  shortened  petticoat,  which  always 
travels  out  before  her  when  she  moves?  She  has  not  the 
smallest  knack  or  skill  to  trim  herself  a  little,  and  conceal 
her  state." 


186  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Let  her  be,"  said  Laertes.  "Time  will  soon  come  to 
her  aid." 

"It  were  prettier,  however,"  cried  Philina,  "if  we  could 
shake  children  from  the  trees." 

The  baron  entered,  and  spoke  some  kind  words  to  them, 
adding  a  few  presents,  in  the  name  of  the  count  and  the  count- 
ess, who  had  left  the  place  very  early  in  the  morning.  He 
then  went  to  Wilhelm,  who  was  busy  in  the  side-chamber  with 
Mignon.  She  had  been  extremely  affectionate  and  taking ; 
had  asked  minutely  about  Wilhelm's  parents,  brothers,  sis- 
ters, and  relations ;  and  so  brought  to  his  mind  the  duty 
he  owed  his  people,  to  send  them  some  tidings  of  himself. 

With  the  farewell  compliments  of  the  family,  the  baron 
delivered  him  an  assurance  from  the  count,  that  his  lordship 
had  been  exceedingly  obliged  by  his  acting,  his  poetical 
labors,  and  theatrical  exertions.  For  proof  of  this  state- 
ment, the  baron  then  drew  forth  a  purse,  through  whose 
beautiful  texture  the  bright  glance  of  new  gold  coin  was 
sparkling  out.  Wilhelm  drew  back,  refusing  to  accept  of  it. 

"  Look  upon  this  gift,"  said  the  baron,  "  as  a  compensa- 
tion for  your  time,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  your  trouble, 
not  as  the  reward  of  your  talents.  If  genius  procures  us  a 
good  name  and  good  will  from  men,  it  is  fair  likewise,  that, 
by  our  diligence  and  efforts,  we  should  earn  the  means  to 
satisfy  our  wants  ;  since,  after  all,  we  are  not  wholly  spirit. 
Had  we  been  in  town,  where  every  thing  is  to  be  got,  we 
should  have  changed  this  little  sum  into  a  watch,  a  ring,  or 
something  of  that  sort ;  but,  as  it  is,  I  must  place  the  magic 
rod  in  your  own  hands ;  procure  a  trinket  with  it,  such  as 
may  please  you  best  and  be  of  greatest  use,  and  keep  it  for 
our  sakes.  At  the  same  time,  you  must  not  forget  to  hold 
the  purse  in  honor.  It  was  knit  by  the  fingers  of  our  ladies  : 
the}'  meant  that  the  cover  should  give  to  its  contents  the 
most  pleasing  form." 

"Forgive  my  embarrassment,"  said  Wilhelm,  "and  my 
doubts  about  accepting  this  present.  It,  as  it  were,  anni- 
hilates the  little  I  have  done,  and  hinders  the  free  play  of 
happy  recollection.  Money  is  a  fine  thing,  when  any  matter 
is  to  be  completely  settled  and  abolished :  I  feel  unwilling  to 
be  so  entirely  abolished  from  the  recollection  of  your  house." 

"  That  is  not  the  case,"  replied  the  baron  ;  "  but,  feeling 
so  tenderly  yourself,  you  could  not  wish  that  the  count 
should  be  obliged  to  consider  himself  wholly  your  debtor, 
especially  when  I  assure  you  that  his  lordship's  highest 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  187 

ambition  has  always  consisted  in  being  punctual  and  just. 
He  is  not  uninformed  of  the  labor  you  have  undergone,  or 
of  the  zeal  with  which  you  have  devoted  all  your  time  to 
execute  his  views  ;  nay,  he  is  aware,  that,  to  quicken  certain 
operations,  you  have  even  expended  money  of  your  own. 
With  what  face  shall  I  appear  before  him,  then,  if  I  cannot 
say  that  his  acknowledgment  has  given  you  satisfaction?  " 

"  If  I  thought  only  of  myself,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  if  I  might 
follow  merely  the  dictates  of  my  own  feelings,  I  should  cer- 
tainly, in  spite  of  all  these  reasons,  steadfastly  refuse  this 
gift,  generous  and  honorable  as  it  is ;  but  I  will  not  deny, 
that,  at  the  very  moment  when  it  brings  me  into  one  per- 
plexity, it  frees  me  from  another,  into  which  I  have  lately 
fallen  with  regard  to  my  relations,  and  which  has  in  secret 
caused  me  much  uneasiness.  My  management,  not  only  of 
the  time,  but  also  of  the  money,  for  which  I  have  to  give 
account,  has  not  been  the  best ;  and  now,  by  the  kindness 
of  his  lordship,  I  shall  be  enabled,  with  confidence,  to  give 
my  people  news  of  the  good  fortune  to  which  this  curious 
by-path  has  led  me.  I  therefore  sacrifice  those  feelings  of 
delicacy,  which,  like  a  tender  conscience,  admonish  us  on 
such  occasions,  to  a  higher  duty ;  and,  that  I  may  appear 
courageously  before  my  father,  I  must  consent  to  stand 
ashamed  before  you." 

"It  is  singular,"  replied  the  baron,  "to  see  what  a  world 
of  hesitation  people  feel  about  accepting  money  from  their 
friends  and  patrons,  though  ready  to  receive  any  other  gift 
with  joy  and  thankfulness.  Human  nature  manifests  some 
other  such  peculiarities,  by  which  many  scruples  of  a  similar 
kind  are  produced  and  carefully  cherished." 

"Is  it  not  the  same  with  all  points  of  honor?"  said  our 
friend. 

"It  is  so,"  replied  the  baron,  "and  with  several  other 
prejudices.  We  must  not  root  them  out,  lest  in  doing  so  we 
tear  up  noble  plants  along  with  them.  Yet  I  am  always 
glad  when  I  meet  with  men  that  feel  superior  to  such  objec- 
tions, when  the  case  requires  it ;  and  I  recall  with  pleasure 
the  story  of  that  ingenious  poet  who  had  written  several 
plays  for  the  court-theatre,  which  met  with  the  monarch's 
warmest  approbation.  '  I  must  give  him  a  distinguished 
recompense,'  said  the  generous  prince :  '  ask  him  whether 
he  would  choose  to  have  some  jewel  given  him,  or  if  he 
would  disdain  to  accept  a  sum  of  money.'  In  his  humor- 
ous way,  the  poet  answered  the  inquiring  courtier,  '  I  am 


188  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

thankful,  with  all  my  heart*,  for  these  gracious  purposes ; 
and,  as  the  emperor  is  daily  taking  money  from  us,  I  see 
not  wherefore  I  should  feel  ashamed  of  taking  some  from 
him.' ' 

Scarcely  had  the  baron  left  the  room,  when  Wilhelm 
eagerly  began  to  count  the  cash,  which  had  come  to  him 
so  unexpectedly,  and,  as  he  thought,  so  undeservedly.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  worth  and  dignity  of  gold,  not  usually  felt 
till  later  years,  had  now,  by  anticipation,  twinkled  in  his 
eyes  for  the  first  time,  as  the  fine,  glancing  coins  rolled  out 
from  the  beautiful  purse.  He  reckoned  up,  and  found,  that, 
particularly  as  Melina  had  engaged  immediately  to  pa}'  the 
loan,  he  had  now  as  much  or  more  on  the  right  side  of  his 
account  as  on  that  day  when  Philina  first  asked  him  for  the 
nosegay.  With  a  little  secret  satisfaction,  he  looked  upon 
his  talents ;  with  a  little  pride,  upon  the  fortune  which  had 
led  and  attended  him.  He  now  seized  the  pen,  with  an  as- 
sured mind,  to  write  a  letter  which  might  free  his  family 
from  their  anxieties,  and  set  his  late  proceedings  in  the  most 
favorable  light.  He  abstained  from  any  special  narrative, 
and  only  by  significant  and  mysterious  hints  left  them  room 
for  guessing  at  what  had  befallen  him.  The  good  condition 
of  his  cash-book,  the  advantage  he  had  earned  by  his  tal- 
ents, the  favor  of  the  great  and  of  the  fair,  acquaintance 
with  a  wider  circle,  the  improvement  of  his  bodily  and  men- 
tal gifts,  his  hopes  from  the  future,  altogether  formed  such 
a  fair  cloud-picture,  that  Fata  Morgana  itself  could  scarcely 
have  thrown  together  a  stranger  or  a  better. 

In  this  happy  exaltation,  the  letter  being  folded  up,  he 
went  on  to  maintain  a  conversation  with  himself,  recapitu- 
lating what  he  had  been  writing,  and  pointing  out  for  him- 
self an  active  and  glorious  future.  The  example  of  so  many 
gallant  warriors  had  fired  him ;  the  poetry  of  Shakspeare 
had  opened  a  new  world  to  him  ;  from  the  lips  of  the  beau- 
tiful countess  he  had  inhaled  an  inexpressible  inspiration. 
All  this  could  not  and  would  not  be  without  effect. 

The  Stallmeister  came  to  inquire  whether  they  were  ready 
with  their  packing.  Alas  !  with  the  single  exception  of  Me- 
lina, no  one  of  them  had  thought  of  it.  Now,  however,  they 
were  speedily  to  be  in  motion.  The  count  had  engaged  to 
have  the  whole  party  conveyed  forward  a  few  days'  journey 
on  their  way :  the  horses  were  now  in  readiness,  and  could 
not  long  be  wanted.  Wilhelm  asked  for  his  trunk :  Frau 
Melina  had  taken  it  to  put  her  own  things  in.  He  asked  for 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  189 

money  :  Herr  Melina  had  stowed  it  all  far  down  at  the  bot- 
tom of  his  box.  Philina  said  she  had  still  some  room  in 
hers :  she  took  Wilhelm's  clothes,  and  bade  Mignon  bring 
the  rest.  Wilhelm,  not  without  reluctance,  was  obliged  to 
let  it  be  so. 

While  they  were  loading,  and  getting  all  things  ready,  Me- 
lina said,  "  I  am  sorry  we  should  travel  like  mountebanks  and 
rope-dancers.  I  could  wish  that  Mignon  would  put  on  girl's 
clothes,  and  that  the  harper  would  let  his  beard  be  shorn." 
Mignon  clung  firmly  to  Wilhelm,  and  cried,  with  great  vi- 
vacity, "I  am  a  boy  —  I  will  be  no  girl!"  The  old  man 
held  his  peace ;  and  Philina,  on  this  suggestion,  made  some 
merry  observations  on  the  singularity  of  their  protector,  the 
count.  "If  the  harper  should  cut  off  his  beard,"  said  she, 
"  let  him  sew  it  carefully  upon  a  ribbon,  and  keep  it  by  him, 
that  he  may  put  it  on  again  whenever  his  lordship  the  count 
falls  in  with  him  in  any  quarter  of  the  world.  It  was  this 
beard  alone  that  procured  him  the  favor  of  his  lord- 
ship." 

On  being  pressed  to  give  an  explanation  of  this  singular 
speech,  Philina  said  to  them,  "•  The  count  thinks  it  con- 
tributes very  much  to  the  completeness  of  theatrical  illusion 
if  the  actor  continues  to  play  his  part,  and  to  sustain  his 
character,  even  in  common  life.  It  was  for  this  reason  that 
he  showed  such  favor  to  the  Pedant :  and  he  judged  it,  in 
like  manner,  very  fitting  that  the  harper  not  only  wore  his 
false  beard  at  nights  on  the  stage,  but  also  constantly  by 
day  ;  and  he  used  to  be  delighted  at  the  natural  appearance 
of  the  mask." 

While  the  rest  were  laughing  at  this  error,  and  the  other 
strange  opinions  of  the  count,  the  harper  led  our  friend 
aside,  took  leave  of  him,  and  begged,  with  tears,  that  he 
would  even  now  let  him  go.  Wilhelm  spoke  to  him,  declar- 
ing that  he  would  protect  him  against  all  the  world  ;  that  no 
one  should  touch  a  hair  of  his  head,  much  less  send  him  off 
against  his  will. 

The  old  man  seemed  affected  deeply :  an  unwonted  fire 
was  glowing  in  his  eyes.  "•  It  is  not  that,"  cried  he,  "  which 
drives  me  away.  I  have  long  been  reproaching  myself  in 
secret  for  staying  with  you.  I  ought  to  linger  nowhere  ;  for 
misfortune  flies  to  overtake  me,  and  injures  all  that  are  con- 
nected with  me.  Dread  every  thing,  unless  you  dismiss  me  ; 
but  ask  me  no  questions.  I  belong  not  to  myself.  I  cannot 
stay." 


190  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"To  whom  dost  thou  belong?  Who  can  exert  such  a 
power  on  thee?" 

"  Leave  me  my  horrid  secret,  and  let  me  go  !  The  ven- 
geance which  pursues  me  is  not  of  the  earthly  judge.  I 
belong  to  an  inexorable  destiny.  I  cannot  stay,  and  I  dare 
not." 

"  In  the  situation  I  see  thee  in,  I  shall  certainly  not  let 
thee  go." 

"  It  were  high  treason  against  you,  my  benefactor,  if  I 
should  delay.  I  am  secure  while  with  you,  but  you  are  in 
peril.  You  know  not  whom  you  keep  beside  you.  I  am 
guilty,  but  more  wretched  than  guilty.  My  presence  scares 
happiness  away,  and  good  deeds  grow  powerless  when  I 
become  concerned  in  them.  Fugitive,  unresting  I  should 
be,  that  my  evil  genius  might  not  seize  me,  which  pursues 
but  at  a  distance,  and  only  appears  when  I  have  found  a 
place,  and  am  laying  down  my  head  to  seek  repose.  More 
grateful  I  cannot  show  myself  than  by  forsaking  you." 

"  Strange  man  !  Thou  canst  neither  take  away  the  confi- 
dence I  place  in  thee,  nor  the  hope  I  feel  to  see  thee  happy. 
I  wish  not  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of  thy  superstition ;  but 
if  thou  livest  in  belief  of  wonderful  forebodings,  and  entan- 
glements of  fate,  then,  to  cheer  and  hearten  thee,  I  say, 
unite  thyself  to  my  good  fortune,  and  let  us  see  which  gen- 
ius is  the  stronger,  thy  dark  or  my  bright  one." 

Wilhelm  seized  this  opportunity  of  suggesting  to  him  many 
other  comfortable  things ;  for  of  late  our  friend  had  begun 
to  imagine  that  this  singular  attendant  of  his  must  be  a  man, 
who,  by  chance  or  destiny,  had  been  led  into  some  weighty 
crime,  the  remembrance  of  which  he  was  ever  bearing  on  his 
conscience. 

A  few  days  ago  Wilhelm,  listening  to  his  singing,  had  ob- 
served attentively  the  following  lines  :  — 

"  For  him  the  light  of  ruddy  morn 

But  paints  the  horizon  red  with  flame; 
And  voices,  from  the  depths  of  nature  borne, 
Woe!  woe!  upon  his  guilty  head  proclaim." 

But,  let  the  old  man  urge  what  arguments  he  pleased,  our 
friend  had  constantly  a  stronger  argument  at  hand.  He 
turned  every  thing  on  its  fairest  side ;  spoke  so  bravely, 
heartily,  and  cheerily,  that  even  the  old  man  seemed  again 
to  gather  spirits,  and  to  throw  aside  his  whims. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  191 


CHAPTER  H. 

MELINA  was  in  hopes  to  get  established,  with  his  company, 
in  a  small  but  thriving  town  at  some  distance.  They  had 
already  reached  the  place  where  the  count's  horses  were  to 
turn,  and  now  they  looked  about  for  other  carriages  and 
cattle  to  transport  them  onward.  Melina  had  engaged  to 
provide  them  a  conveyance  :  he  showed  himself  but  niggardly, 
according  to  his  custom.  Wilhelm,  on  the  contrary,  had  the 
shining  ducats  of  the  countess  in  his  pocket,  and  thought  he 
had  the  fullest  right  to  spend  them  merrily  ;  forgetting  very 
soon  how  ostentatiously  he  had  produced  them  in  the  stately 
balance  transmitted  to  his  father. 

His  friend  Shakspeare,  whom  with  the  greatest  joy  he 
acknowledged  as  his  godfather,  and  rejoiced  the  more  that 
his  name  was  Wilhelm,  had  introduced  him  to  a  prince,  who 
frolicked  for  a  time  among  mean,  nay,  vicious  companions, 
and  who,  notwithstanding  his  nobleness  of  nature,  found 
pleasure  in  the  rudeness,  indecency,  and  coarse  intemperance 
of  these  altogether  sensual  knaves.  This  ideal  likeness, 
which  he  figured  as  the  type  and  the  excuse  of  his  own 
actual  condition,  was  most  welcome  to  our  friend ;  and  the 
process  of  self-deception,  to  which  already  he  displayed  an 
almost  invincible  tendency,  was  thereby  very  much  facili- 
tated. 

He  now  began  to  think  about  his  dress.  It  struck  him  that 
a  waistcoat,  over  which,  in  case  of  need,  one  could  throw  a 
little  short  mantle,  was  a  very  fit  thing  for  a  traveller.  Long 
knit  pantaloons,  and  a  pair  of  lacing-boots,  seemed  the  true 
garb  of  a  pedestrian.  He  next  procured  a  fine  silk  sash, 
which  he  tied  about  him,  under  the  pretence  at  first  of  secur- 
ing warmth  for  his  person.  On  the  other  hand,  he  freed 
his  neck  from  the  tyranny  of  stocks,  and  got  a  few  stripes 
of  muslin  sewed  upon  his  shirt ;  making  the  pieces  of  con- 
siderable breadth,  so  that  they  presented  the  complete  ap- 
pearance of  an  ancient  ruff.  The  beautiful  silk  neckerchief, 
the  memorial  of  Mariana,  which  had  once  been  saved  from 
burning,  now  lay  slackly  tied  beneath  this  muslin  collar.  A 
round  hat,  with  a  party-colored  band,  and  a  large  feather, 
perfected  the  mask. 

The  women  all  asserted  that  this  garb  became  him  very 
well.  Philina  in  particular  appeared  enchanted  with  it. 
She  solicited  his  hair  for  herself, — beautiful  locks,  which, 


192  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  closer  to  approach  the  natural  ideal,  he  had  unmercifully 
clipped.  By  so  doing  she  recommended  herself  not  amiss  to 
his  favor ;  and  our  friend,  who  by  his  open-handedness  had 
acquired  the  right  of  treating  his  companions  somewhat  in 
Prince  Harry's  manner,  erelong  fell  into  the  humor  of  him- 
self contriving  a  few  wild  tricks,  and  presiding  in  the  execu- 
tion of  them.  The  people  fenced,  they  danced,  they  devised 
all  kinds  of  sports,  and,  in  their  gayety  of  heart,  partook  of 
what  tolerable  wine  they  could  fall  in  with  in  copious  pro- 
portions ;  while,  amid  the  disorder  of  this  tumultuous  life, 
Philina  lay  in  wait  for  the  coy  hero,  —  over  whom  let  his 
better  genius  keep  watch ! 

One  chief  diversion,  which  yielded  the  company  a  frequent 
and  very  pleasing  entertainment,  consisted  in  producing  an 
extempore  play,  in  which  their  late  benefactors  and  patrons 
were  mimicked,  and  turned  into  ridicule.  Some  of  our  actors 
had  seized  very  neatly  whatever  was  peculiar  in  the  outward 
manner  of  several  distinguished  people  in  the  count's  estab- 
lishment ;  their  imitation  of  these  was  received  by  the  rest  of 
the  part}'  with  the  greatest  approbation :  and  when  Philina 
produced,  from  the  secret  archives  of  her  experience,  certain 
peculiar  declarations  of  love  that  had  been  made  to  her,  the 
audience  were  like  to  die  with  laughing  and  malicious  joy. 

Wilhelm  censured  their  ingratitude ;  but  they  told  him  in 
reply  that  these  gentry  well  deserved  what  they  were  getting, 
their  general  conduct  toward  such  deserving  people,  a  sour 
friends  believed  themselves,  not  having  been  by  any  means 
the  best  imaginable.  The  little  consideration,  the  neglect 
they  had  experienced,  were  now  described  with  many  aggra- 
vations. The  jesting,  bantering,  and  mimicry  proceeded  as 
before :  our  party  were  growing  bitterer  and  more  unjust 
every  minute. 

"  I  wish,"  observed  Wilhelm,  "  there  were  no  envy  or 
selfishness  lurking  under  what  you  say,  but  that  you  would 
regard  those  persons  and  their  station  in  the  proper  point  of 
view.  It  is  a  peculiar  thing  to  be  placed,  by  one's  very 
birth,  in  an  elevated  situation  in  society.  The  man  for  whom 
inherited  wealth  has  secured  a  perfect  freedom  of  existence ; 
who  finds  himself  from  his  youth  upwards  abundantly  en- 
compassed with  all  the  secondary  essentials,  so  to  speak,  of 
human  life,  —  will  generally  become  accustomed  to  consider 
these  qualifications  as  the  first  and  greatest  of  all ;  while  the 
worth  of  that  mode  of  human  life,  which  nature  from  her 
own  stores  equips  and  furnishes,  will  strike  him  much  more 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  193 

faintly.  The  behavior  of  noblemen  to  their  inferiors,  and 
likewise  to  each  other,  is  regulated  by  external  preferences. 
They  give  each  credit  for  his  title,  his  rank,  his  clothes,  and 
equipage  ;  but  his  individual  merits  come  not  into  play." 

This  speech  was  honored  with  the  company's  unbounded 
applause.  They  declared  it  to  be  shameful,  that  men  of 
merit  should  constantly  be  pushed  into  the  background ;  and 
that,  in  the  great  world,  there  should  not  be  a  trace  of 
natural  and  hearty  intercourse.  On  this  latter  point  particu- 
larly they  overshot  all  bounds. 

"  Blame  them  not  for  it,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  rather  pity 
them  !  They  have  seldom  an  exalted  feeling  of  that  happi- 
ness which  we  admit  to  be  the  highest  that  can  flow  from 
the  inward  abundance  of  nature.  Only  to  us  poor  creatures 
is  it  granted  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of  friendship  in  its 
richest  fulness.  Those  dear  to  us  we  cannot  elevate  by  our 
countenance,  or  advance  by  our  favor,  or  make  happy  by 
our  presents.  We  have  nothing  but  ourselves.  This  whole 
self  we  must  give  away ;  and,  if  it  is  to  be  of  any  value,  we 
must  make  our  friend  secure  of  it  forever.  What  an  enjoy- 
ment, what  a  happiness,  for  giver  and  receiver!  With  what 
blessedness  does  truth  of  affection  invest  our  situation  !  It 
gives  to  the  transitory  life  of  man  a  heavenly  certainty :  it 
forms  the  crown  and  capital  of  all  that  we  possess." 

While  he  spoke  thus,  Mignon  had  come  near  him :  she 
threw  her  little  arms  round  him,  and  stood  with  her  cheek 
resting  on  his  breast.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  child's  head, 
and  proceeded,  "It  is  easy  for  a  great  man  to  win  our 
minds  to  him,  easy  to  make  our  hearts  his  own.  A  mild 
and  pleasant  manner,  a  manner  only  not  inhuman,  will  of  it- 
self do  wonders,  —  and  how  many  means  does  he  possess  of 
holding  fast  the  affections  he  has  once  conquered?  To  us, 
all  this  occurs  less  frequently  ;  to  us  it  is  all  more  difficult ; 
and  we  naturally,  therefore,  put  a  greater  value  on  whatever, 
in  the  way  of  mutual  kindness,  we  acquire  and  accomplish. 
What  touching  examples  of  faithful  servants  giving  them- 
selves up  to  danger  and  death  for  their  masters?  How  finely 
has  Shakspeare  painted  out  such  things  to  us  !  Fidelity,  in 
this  case,  is  the  effort  of  a  noble  soul,  struggling  to  become 
equal  with  one  exalted  above  it.  By  steadfast  attachment 
and  love,  the  servant  is  made  equal  to  his  lord,  who,  but  for 
this,  is  justified  in  looking  on  him  as  a  hired  slave.  Yes, 
these  virtues  belong  to  the  lower  class  of  men  alone  :  that 
class  cannot  do  without  them,  and  with  them  it  has  a  beauty 


IS-i  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  its  own.  Whoever  is  enabled  to  requite  all  favors  easily 
will  likewise  easily  be  tempted  to  raise  himself  above  the 
habit  of  acknowledgment.  Nay,  in  this  sense,  I  am  of  opin- 
ion it  might  almost  be  maintained,  that  a  great  man  may 
possess  friends,  but  cannot  be  one." 

Mignon  clung  more  and  more  closely  to  him. 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  one  of  the  party:  "we  do  not 
need  their  friendship,  and  do  not  ask  it.  But  it  were  well  if 
they  understood  a  little  more  about  the  arts,  which  they  affect 
to  patronize.  When  we  played  in  the  best  style,  there  was 
none  to  mind  us  :  it  was  all  sheer  partiality.  Any  one  they 
chose  to  favor,  pleased ;  and  they  did  not  choose  to  favor 
those  that  merited  to  please.  It  was  intolerable  to  observe 
how  often  silliness  and  mere  stupidity  attracted  notice  and 
applause." 

"  When  I  abate  from  this,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  what  seemed 
to  spring  from  irony  and  malice,  I  think  we  may  nearly  say, 
that  one  fares  in  art  as  he  does  in  love.  And,  after  all,  how 
shall  a  fashionable  man  of  the  world,  with  his  dissipated 
habits,  attain  that  intimate  presence  with  a  special  object, 
which  an  artist  must  long  continue  in,  if  he  would  produce 
an}-  thing  approaching  to  perfection, — a  state  of  feeling 
without  which  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  take  such  an  in- 
terest, as  the  artist  hopes  and  wishes,  in  his  work  ? 

"  Believe  me,  my  friends,  it  is  with  talents  as  with  virtue  : 
one  must  love  them  for  their  own  sake,  or  entirely  renounce 
them.  And  neither  of  them  is  acknowledged  and  rewarded, 
except  when  their  possessor  can  practise  them  unseen,  like  a 
dangerous  secret." 

"Meanwhile,  until  some  proper  judge  discovers  us,  we 
may  all  die  of  hunger,"  cried  a  fellow  in  the  corner. 

"  Not  quite  inevitably,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  I  have 
observed,  that,  so  long  as  one  stirs  and  lives,  one  always  findi 
food  and  raiment,  though  they  be  not  of  the  richest  sort. 
And  why  should  we  repine  ?  Were  we  not,  altogether  unex- 
pectedly, and  when  our  prospects  were  $he  very  worst,  taken 
kindly  by  the  hand,  and  substantially  entertained?  And 
now,  when  we  are  in  want  of  nothing,  does  it  once  occur  to 
us  to  attempt  anything  for  our  improvement,  or  to  strive, 
though  never  so  faintly,  towards  advancement  in  our  art? 
We  are  busied  about  indifferent  matters ;  and,  like  school- 
boys, we  are  casting  all  aside  that  might  bring  our  lesson  to 
our  thoughts." 

"In  sad  truth,"  said  Philina,  "it  is  even  so!     Let  UB 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  195 

choose  a  play :  we  will  go  through  it  on  the  spot.  Each  of  us 
must  do  his  best,  as  if  he  stood  before  the  largest  audience." 

They  did  not  long  deliberate  :  a  play  was  fixed  on.  It  was 
one  of  those  which  at  that  time  were  meeting  great  applause 
in  Germany,  and  have  now  passed  away.  Some  of  the  party 
whistled  a  symphony ;  each  speedily  bethought  him  of  his 
part ;  they  commenced,  and  acted  the  entire  play  with  the 
greatest  attention,  and  really  well  beyond  expectation.  Mu- 
tual applauses  circulated :  our  friends  had  seldom  been  so 
pleasantly  diverted. 

On  finishing,  they  all  felt  exceedingly  contented,  partly  on 
account  of  their  time  being  spent  so  well,  partly  because 
each  of  them  experienced  some  degree  of  satisfaction  with 
his  own  performance.  Wilhelm  expressed  himself  copiously 
in  their  praise  :  the  conversation  grew  cheerful  and  merry. 

"  You  would  see,"  cried  our  friend,  "what  advances  we 
should  make,  if  we  continued  this  sort  of  training,  and  ceased 
to  confine  our  attention  to  mere  learning  by  heart,  rehears- 
ing and  playing  mechanically,  as  if  it  were  a  barren  duty,  or 
some  handicraft  employment.  How  different  a  character  do 
our  musical  professors  merit !  What  interest  they  take  in 
their  art !  how  correct  are  they  in  the  practisings  they  un- 
dertake in  common  !  What  pains  they  are  at  in  tuning  their 
instruments  ;  how  exactly  they  observe  time  ;  how  delicately 
they  express  the  strength  and  the  weakness  of  their  tones ! 
No  one  there  thinks  of  gaining  credit  to  himself  by  a  loud 
accompaniment  of  the  solo  of  another.  Each  tries  to  play 
in  the  spirit  of  the  composer,  each  to  express  well  whatever 
is  committed  to  him,  be  it  much  or  little. 

"  Should  not  we.  too,  go  as  strictly  and  as  ingeniously  to 
work,  seeing  we  practise  an  art  far  more  delicate  than  that 
of  music,  —  seeing  we  are  called  on  to  express  the  commonest 
and  the  strangest  emotions  of  human  nature,  with  elegance, 
and  so  as  to  delight?  Can  any  thing  be  more  shocking  than 
to  slur  over  our  rehearsal,  and  in  our  acting  to  depend  on 
good  luck,  or  the  capricious  choice  of  the  moment?  We 
ought  to  place  our  highest  happiness  and  satisfaction  in  mu- 
tually desiring  to  gain  each  other's  approbation  :  we  should 
even  value  the  applauses  of  the  public  only  in  so  far  as  we 
have  previously  sanctioned  them  among  ourselves.  Why  is 
the  master  of  the  band  more  secure  about  his  music  than  the 
manager  about  his  play?  Because,  in  the  orchestra,  each 
individual  would  feel  ashamed  of  his  mistakes,  which  offend 
the  outward  ear ;  but  how  seldom  have  I  found  an  actor  dis- 


196  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

posed  to  acknowledge  or  feel  ashamed  of  mistakes,  pardonable 
or  the  contrary,  by  which  the  inward  ear  is  so  outrageously 
offended!  I  could  wish,  for  my  part,  that  our  theatre  were 
as  naiTow  as  the  wire  of  a  rope-dancer,  that  so  no  inept  fel- 
low might  dare  to  venture  on  it,  instead  of  being,  as  it  is,  a 
place  where  every  one  discovers  in  himself  capacity  enough 
to  flourish  and  parade." 

The  company  gave  this  apostrophe  a  kind  reception  ;  each 
being  convinced  that  the  censure  conveyed  in  it  could  not 
apply  to  him,  after  acting  a  little  while  ago  so  excellently 
with  the  rest.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  agreed,  that  during 
this  journe}',  and  for  the  future  if  they  remained  together, 
they  would  regularly  proceed  with  their  training  in  the  man- 
ner just  adopted.  Only  it  was  thought,  that,  as  this  was  a 
thing  of  good  humor  and  free  will,  no  formal  manager  must 
be  allowed  to  have  a  hand  in  it.  Taking  it  for  an  estab- 
lished fact,  that,  among  good  men,  the  republican  form  of 
government  is  the  best,  they  declared  that  the  post  of  manager 
should  go  round  among  them  :  he  must  be  chosen  by  uni- 
versal suffrage,  and  every  time  have  a  sort  of  little  senate 
joined  in  authority  along  with  him.  So  delighted  did  they 
feel  with  this  idea,  that  they  longed  to  put  it  instantly  in 
practice. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  said  Melina,  "  if  you  incline  mak- 
ing such  an  experiment  while  we  are  travelling :  I  shall 
willing!}-  suspend  my  own  directorship  until  we  reach  some 
settled  place."  He  was  in  hopes  of  saving  cash  b}'  this 
arrangement,  and  of  casting  many  small  expenses  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  little  senate  or  of  the  interim  manager. 
This  fixed,  they  went  very  earnestly  to  counsel  how  the  form 
of  the  new  commonwealth  might  best  be  adjusted. 

"  'Tis  an  itinerating  kingdom,"  said  Laertes:  •'  we  shall 
at  least  have  no  quarrels  about  frontiers." 

They  directly  proceeded  to  the  business,  and  elected  Wil- 
helm  as  their  first  manager.  The  senate  also  was  appointed, 
the  women  having  seat  and  vote  in  it :  laws  were  propounded, 
were  rejected,  were  agreed  to.  In  such  playing,  the  time 
passed  on  unnoticed ;  and,  as  our  friends  had  spent  it  pleas- 
antly, they  also  conceived  that  they  had  really  been  effecting 
something  useful,  and,  by  their  new  constitution,  had  been 
opening  a  new  prospect  for  the  stage  of  their  native  country. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  197 


CHAPTER   III. 

SEEING  the  company  so  favorably  disposed,  Wilhelm  now 
hoped  he  might  further  have  it  in  his  power  to  converse  with 
them  on  the  poetic  merit  of  the  plays  which  might  come 
before  them.  "  It  is  not  enough,"  said  he  next  day,  when 
they  were  all  again  assembled,  "  for  the  actor  merely  to 
glance  over  a  dramatic  work,  to  judge  of  it  by  his  first  im- 
pression, and  thus,  without  investigation,  to  declare  his  sat- 
isfaction or  dissatisfaction  with  it.  Such  things  may  be 
allowed  in  a  spectator,  whose  purpose  it  is  rather  to  be 
entertained  and  moved  than  formally  to  criticise.  But  the 
actor,  on  the  other  hand,  should  be  prepared  to  give  a  reason 
for  his  praise  or  censure ;  and  how  shall  he  do  this,  if  he 
have  not  taught  himself  to  penetrate  the  sense,  the  views, 
and  feelings  of  his  author?  A  common  error  is,  to  form  a 
judgment  of  a  drama  from  a  single  part  in  it,  and  to  look 
upon  this  part  itself  in  an  isolated  point  of  view,  not  in  its 
connection  with  the  whole.  I  have  noticed  this  within  a  few 
days,  so  clearly  in  my  own  conduct,  that  I  will  give  you  the 
account  as  an  example,  if  you  please  to  hear  me  patiently. 

"  You  all  know  Shakspeare's  incomparable  '  Hamlet :  '  our 
public  reading  of  it  at  the  castle  yielded  every  one  of  us  the 
greatest  satisfaction.  On  that  occasion  we  proposed  to  act 
the  play ;  and  I,  not  knowing  what  I  undertook,  engaged  to 
play  the  prince's  part.  This  I  conceived  t^at  I  was  study- 
ing, while  I  began  to  get  by  heart  the  strongest  passages, 
the  soliloquies,  and  those  scenes  in  which  force  of  soul,  ve- 
hemence and  elevation  of  feeling,  have  the  freest  scope ; 
where  the  agitated  heart  is  allowed  to  display  itself  with 
touching  expressiveness. 

"  I  further  conceived  that  I  was  penetrating  quite  into  the 
spirit  of  the  character,  while  I  endeavored,  as  it.  were,  to  take 
upon  myself  the  load  of  deep  melancholy  under  which  my 
prototype  was  laboring,  and  in  this  humor  to  pursue  him 
through  the  strange  labyrinths  of  his  caprices  and  his  singu- 
larities. Thus  learning,  thus  practising,  I  doubted  not  but  I 
should  by  and  by  become  one  person  with  my  hero. 

"But,  the  farther  I  advanced,  the  more  difficult  did  it  be- 
come for  me  to  form  any  image  of  the  whole,  in  its  general 
bearings  ;  till  at  last  it  seemed  as  if  impossible.  I  next 
went  through  the  entire  piece,  without  interruption  ;  but  here, 
too,  I  found  much  that  I  could  not  away  with.  At  one  time 


198  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  characters,  at  another  time  the  manner  of  displaying 
them,  seemed  inconsistent ;  and  I  almost  despaired  of  find- 
ing any  general  tint,  in  which  I  might  present  my  whole 
part  with  all  its  shadings  and  variations.  In  such  devious 
paths  I  toiled,  and  wandered  long  in  vain  ;  till  at  length  a 
hope  arose  that  I  might  reach  my  aim  in  quite  a  new  way. 

"  I  set  about  investigating  every  trace  of  Hamlet's  char- 
acter, as  it  had  shown  itself  before  his  father's  death :  I  en- 
deavored to  distinguish  what  in  it  was  independent  of  this 
mournful  event,  independent  of  the  terrible  events  that  fol- 
lowed ;  and  what  most  probably  the  young  man  would  have 
been,  had  no  such  thing  occurred. 

"  Soft,  and  from  a  noble  stem,  this  royal  flower  had 
sprung  up  under  the  immediate  influences  of  majesty :  the 
idea  of  moral  rectitude  with  that  of  princely  elevation,  the 
feeling  of  the  good  and  dignified  with  the  consciousness  of 
high  birth,  had  in  him  been  unfolded  simultaneously.  He 
was  a  prince,  by  birth  a  prince  ;  and  he  wished  to  reign,  only 
that  good  men  might  be  good  without  obstruction.  Pleasing 
in  form,  polished  by  nature,  courteous  from  the  heart,  he 
was  meant  to  be  the  pattern  of  youth  and  the  joy  of  the 
world. 

"  Without  any  prominent  passion,  his  love  for  Ophelia  was 
a  still  presentiment  of  sweet  wants.  His  zeal  in  knightly 
accomplishments  was  not  entirely  his  own :  it  needed  to 
be  quickened  and  inflamed  by  praise  bestowed  on  others  for 
excelling  in  them,.  Pure  in  sentiment,  he  knew  the  honor- 
able-minded, and  could  prize  the  rest  which  an  upright  spirit 
tastes  on  the  bosom  of  a  friend.  To  a  certain  degree,  he 
had  learned  to  discern  and  value  the  good  and  the  beautiful 
in  arts  and  sciences ;  the  mean,  the  vulgar,  was  offensive  to 
him  ;  and,  if  hatred  could  take  root  in  his  tender  soul,  it  was 
only  so  far  as  to  make  him  properly  despise  the  false  and 
changeful  insects  of  a  court,  and  play  with  them  in  easy 
scorn.  He  was  calm  in  his  temper,  artless  in  his  conduct, 
neither  pleased  with  idleness,  nor  too  violently  eager  for  em- 
ployment. The  routine  of  a  university  he  seemed  to  con- 
tinue when  at  court.  He  possessed  more  mirth  of  humor 
than  of  heart :  he  was  a  good  companion,  pliant,  courteous, 
discreet,  and  able  to  forget  and  forgive  an  injury,  yet  never 
able  to  unite  himself  with  those  who  overstepped  the  limits 
of  the  right,  the  good,  and  the  becoming. 

"  When  we  read  the  piece  again,  you  shall  judge  whether 
I  am  yet  on  the  proper  track.  I  hope  at  least  to  bring  for- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  199 

ward  passages  that  shall  support  my  opinion  in   its  main 
points." 

This  delineation  was  received  with  warm  approval ;  the 
company  imagined  they  foresaw  that  Hamlet's  manner  of 
proceeding  might  now  be  very  satisfactorily  explained  ;  they 
applauded  this  method  of  penetrating  into  the  spirit  of  a 
writer.  Each  of  them  proposed  to  himself  to  take  up  some 
piece,  and  study  it  ou  these  principles,  and  so  unfold  the 
author's  meaning. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OUR  friends  had  to  continue  in  the  place  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  it  was  not  long  ere  sundry  of  them  got  engaged  in  ad- 
ventures of  a  rather  pleasant  kind.  Laertes  in  particular 
was  challenged  by  a  lady  of  the  neighborhood,  a  person  of 
some  property ;  but  he  received  her  blandishments  with  ex- 
treme, nay,  unhandsome,  coldness,  and  had  in  consequence 
to  undergo  a  multitude  of  jibes  from  Philina.  She  took  this 
opportunity  of  detailing  to  our  friend  the  hapless  love-story 
which  had  made  the  youth  so  bitter  a  foe  to  womankind. 
"  Who  can  take  it  ill  of  him,"  she  cried,  "  that  he  hates  a 
sex  which  has  played  him  so  foul,  and  given  him  to  swallow, 
in  one  stoutly  concentrated  potion,  all  the  miseries  that  man 
can  fear  from  woman  ?  Do  but  conceive  it :  within  four  and 
twenty  hours,  he  was  lover,  bridegroom,  husband,  cuckold, 
patient,  and  widower !  I  wot  not  how  you  could  use  a  man 
worse."  ^ 

Laertes  hastened  from  the  room  half  vexed,  half  laughing ; 
and  Philina  in  her  sprightliest  style  began  to  relate  the  story  : 
how  Laertes,  a  young  man  of  eighteen,  on  joining  a  company 
of  actors,  found  in  it  a  girl  of  fourteen  on  the  point  of 
departing  with  her  father,  who  had  quarrelled  with  the  man- 
ager. How,  on  the  instant,  he  had  fallen  mortally  in  love ; 
had  conjured  the  father  by  all  possible  considerations  to  re- 
main, promising  at  length  to  marry  the  young  woman.  How, 
after  a  few  pleasing  hours  of  groomship,  he  had  accordingly 
been  wedded,  and  been  happy  as  he  ought ;  whereupon, 
next  day,  while  he  was  occupied  at  the  rehearsal,  his  wife, 
according  to  professional  rule,  had  honored  him  with  a  pair 


200  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  horns ;  and  how  as  he,  out  of  excessive  tenderness, 
hastening  home  far  too  soon,  had,  alas !  found  a  former 
lover  in  his  place,  he  had  struck  into  the  affair  with  thought- 
less indignation,  had  called  out  both  father  and  lover,  and 
sustained  a  grievous  wound  in  the  duel.  How  father  and 
daughter  had  thereupon  set  off  by  night,  leaving  him  be- 
hind to  labor  with  a  double  hurt.  How  the  leech  he  applied 
to  was  unhappily  the  worst  in  nature,  and  the  poor  fellow 
had  got  out  of  the  adventure  with  blackened  teeth  and 
watering  eyes.  That  he  was  greatly  to  be  pitied,  being 
otherwise  the  bravest  young  man  on  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
"Especially,"  said  she,  "  it  grieves  me  that  the  poor  soul 
now  hates  women ;  for,  hating  women,  how  can  one  keep 
living?  " 

Melina  interrupted  them  with  news,  that,  all  things  being 
now  ready  for  the  journey,  they  would  set  out  to-morrow 
morning.  He  handed  them  a  plan,  arranging  how  they  were 
to  travel. 

"  If  any  good  friend  take  me  on  his  lap,"  said  Philina, 
"  I  shall  be  content,  though  we  sit  crammed  together  never 
so  close  and  sorrily :  'tis  all  one  to  me." 

"  It  does  not  signify,"  observed  Laertes,  who  now  en- 
tered. 

"  It  is  pitiful,"  saidWilhelm,  hastening  away.  By  the  aid 
of  money,  he  secured  another  very  comfortable  coach  ;  though 
Melina  had  pretended  that  there  were  no  more.  A  new  dis- 
tribution then  took  place ;  and  our  friends  were  rejoicing  in 
the  thought  that  they  should  now  travel  pleasantly,  when  in- 
telligence arrived  that  a  party  of  military  volunteers  had 
been  seen  upon  the  road,  from  whom  little  good  could  be 
expected. 

In  the  town  these  tidings  were  received  with  great  atten- 
tion, though  they  were  but  variable  and  ambiguous.  As  the 
contending  armies  were  at  that  time  placed,  it  seemed  im- 
possible that  any  hostile  corps  could  have  advanced,  or  any 
friendly  one  hung  a-rear,  so  far.  Yet  every  man  was  eager 
to  exhibit  to  our  travellers  the  danger  that  awaited  them  as 
truly  dangerous  :  every  man  was  eager  to  suggest  that  some 
other  route  might  be  adopted. 

By  these  means,  most  of  our  friends  had  been  seized  with 
anxiety  and  fear ;  and  when,  according  to  the  new  repub- 
lican constitution,  the  whole  members  of  the  btate  had  been 
called  together  to  take  counsel  on  this  extraordinary  case, 
they  were  almost  unanimously  of  opinion  that  it  would  be 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  201 

proper  either  to  keep  back  the  mischief  by  abiding  where 
they  were,  or  to  evade  it  by  choosing  another  road. 

Wilhelm  alone,  not  participating  in  the  panic,  regarded  it 
as  mean  to  abandon,  for  the  sake  of  mere  rumors,  a  plan 
they  had  not  entered  on  without  much  thought.  He  en- 
deavored to  put  heart  into  them :  his  reasons  were  manly 
and  convincing. 

"It  is  but  a  rumor,"  he  observed  ;  "  and  how  many  such 
arise  in  time  of  war !  Well-informed  people  say  that  the 
occurrence  is  exceedingly  improbable,  nay,  almost  impos- 
sible. Shall  we,  in  so  important  a  matter,  allow  a  vague 
report  to  determine  our  proceedings  ?  The  route  pointed  out 
to  us  by  the  count,  and  to  which  our  passport  was  adapted, 
is  the  shortest  and  in  the  best  condition.  It  leads  us  to  the 
town,  where  you  see  acquaintances,  friends,  before  you,  and 
may  hope  for  a  good  reception.  The  other  way  will  also 
bring  us  thither ;  but  by  what  a  circuit,  and  along  what 
miserable  roads !  Have  we  any  right  to  hope,  that,  in  this 
late  season  of  the  year,  we  shall  get  on  at  all?  and  what 
time  and  money  shall  we  squander  in  the  mean  while  !  "  He 
added  many  more  considerations,  presenting  the  matter  on 
so  many  advantageous  sides,  that  their  fear  began  to  dis- 
sipate, and  their  courage  to  increase.  He  talked  to  them  so 
much  about  the  discipline  of  regular  troops,  he  painted  the 
marauders  and  wandering  rabble  so  contemptuously,  and 
represented  the  danger  itself  as  so  pleasant  and  inspiring, 
that  the  spirits  of  the  party  were  altogether  cheered. 

Laertes  from  the  first  had  been  of  his  opinion  :  he  now 
declared  that  he  would  not  flinch  or  fail.  Old  Boisterous 
found  a  consenting  phrase  or  two  to  utter,  in  his  own  vein  ; 
Philina  laughed  at  them  all ;  and  Madam  Melina,  who,  not- 
withstanding her  advanced  state  of  pregnancy,  had  lost 
nothing  of  her  natural  stout-heartedness,  regarded  the  pro- 
posal as  heroic.  Herr  Melina,  moved  by  this  harmonious 
feeling,  hoping  also  to  save  somewhat  by  travelling  the  short 
road  which  had  been  first  contemplated,  did  not  withstand 
the  general  consent ;  and  the  project  was  agreed  to  with 
universal  alacrity. 

They  next  began  to  make  some  preparations  for  defence 
at  all  hazards.  They  bought  large  hangers,  and  slung  them 
in  well-quilted  straps  over  their  shoulders.  Wilhelm  further 
stuck  a  pair  of  pistols  in  his  girdle.  Laertes,  independently 
of  this  occurrence,  had  a  good  gun.  They  all  took  the  road 
in  the  highest  glee. 


202  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

On  the  second  day  of  their  journey,  the  drivers,  who  knew 
the  country  well,  proposed  to  take  their  noon's  rest  in  a 
certain  woody  spot  of  the  hills  ;  since  the  town  was  far  off, 
and  in  good  weather  the  hill-road  was  generally  preferred. 

The  day  being  beautiful,  all  easily  agreed  to  the  proposal. 
Wilhelm,  on  foot,  went  on  before  them  through  the  hills ; 
making  every  one  that  met  him  stare  with  astonishment  at 
his  singular  figure.  He  hastened  with  quick  and  contented 
tteps  across  the  forest ;  Laertes  walked  whistling  after  him  ; 
none  but  the  women  continued  to  be  dragged  along  in  the 
carriages.  Mignon,  too,  ran  forward  by  his  side,  proud  of 
the  hanger,  which,  when  the  party  were  all  arming,  she  would 
not  go  without.  Around  her  hat  she  had  bound  the  pearl 
necklace,  one  of  Mariana's  relics,  which  Wilhelm  still  pos- 
sessed. Friedrich,  the  fair-haired  boy,  carried  Laertes's  gun. 
The  harper  had  the  most  pacific  look ;  his  long  cloak  was 
tucked  up  within  his  girdle,  to  let  him  walk  more  freely  ;  he 
leaned  upon  a  knotty  staff ;  his  harp  had  been  left  behind  him 
in  the  carriage. 

Immediately  on  reaching  the  summit  of  the  height,  a  task 
not  without  its  difficulties,  our  party  recognized  the  appointed 
spot,  by  the  fine  beech-trees  which  encircled  and  screened  it. 
A  spacious  green,  sloping  softly  in  the  middle  of  the  forest, 
invited  one  to  tarry  ;  a  trimly  bordered  well  offered  the  most 
grateful  refreshment;  and  on  the  farther  side,  through 
chasms  in  the  mountains,  and  over  the  tops  of  the  woods, 
appeared  a  landscape  distant,  lovely,  full  of  hope.  Hamlets 
and  mills  were  lying  in  the  bottoms,  villages  upon  the  plain  : 
and  a  new  chain  of  mountains,  visible  in  the  distance,  made 
the  prospect  still  more  significant  of  hope ;  for  they  entered 
only  like  a  soft  limitation. 

The  first  comers  took  possession  of  the  place,  rested  a  while 
in  the  shade,  lighted  a  fire,  and  so  awaited,  singing  as  they 
worked,  the  remainder  of  the  party,  who  by  degrees  arrived, 
and  with  one  accord  saluted  the  place,  the  lovely  weather, 
and  still  lovelier  scene. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  203 


CHAPTER  V. 

IP  our  friends  had  frequently  enjoyed  a  good  and  merry 
hour  together  while  within  four  walls,  they  were  naturally 
much  gayer  here,  where  the  freedom  of  the  sky  and  the  beauty 
of  the  place  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  purify  the  feelings  of  every 
one.  All  felt  nearer  to  each  other:  all  wished  that  they 
might  pass  their  whole  lives  in  so  pleasant  an  abode.  They 
envied  hunters,  charcoal-men,  and  wood-cutters,  —  people 
whom  their  calling  constantly  retains  in  such  happy  places,  — 
but  prized,  above  all,  the  delicious  economy  of  a  band  of 
gypsies.  They  envied  these  wonderful  companions,  entitled 
to  enjoy  in  blissful  idleness  all  the  adventurous  charms  of 
nature  :  they  rejoiced  at  being  in  some  degree  like  them. 

Meanwhile  the  women  had  begun  to  boil  potatoes,  and  to 
unwrap  and  get  ready  the  victuals  brought  along  with  them. 
Some  pots  were  standing  by  the  fire.  The  party  had  placed 
themselves  in  groups,  under  the  trees  and  bushes.  Their 
singular  apparel,  their  various  weapons,  gave  them  a  foreign 
aspect.  The  horses  were  eating  their  provender  at  a  side. 
Could  one  have  concealed  the  coaches,  the  look  of  this  little 
horde  would  have  been  romantic,  even  to  complete  illusion. 

Wilhelm  enjoyed  a  pleasure  he  had  never  felt  before.  He 
could  now  imagine  his  present  company  to  be  a  wandering 
colony,  and  himself  the  leader  of  it.  In  this  character  he 
talked  with  those  around  him,  and  figured  out  the  fantas}1  of 
the  moment  as  poetically  as  he  could.  The  feelings  of  the 
party  rose  in  cheerfulness :  they  ate  and  drank  and  made 
merry,  and  repeatedly  declared  that  they  had  never  passed 
more  pleasant  moments. 

Their  contentment  had  not  long  gone  on  increasing,  till 
activity  awoke  among  the  younger  part  of  them.  Wilhelm 
and  Laertes  seized  their  rapiers,  and  began  to  practise  on 
this  occasion  with  theatrical  intentions.  They  undertook  to 
represent  the  duel  in  which  Hamlet  and  his  adversary  find 
so  tragical  an  end.  Both  were  persuaded,  that,  in  this  power- 
ful scene,  it  was  not  enough  merety  to  keep  pushing  awkwardly 
hither  and  thither,  as  it  is  generally  exhibited  in  theatres : 
they  were  in  hopes  to  show  by  example  how,  in  presenting 
it,  a  worthy  spectacle  might  also  be  afforded  to  the  critic  in 
the  art  of  fencing.  The  rest  made  a  circle  round  them. 
Both  fought  with  skill  and  ardor.  The  interest  of  the  spec- 
tators rose  higher  ever}*  pass. 


204  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

But  all  at  once,  in  the  nearest  bush,  a  shot  went  off,  and 
immediately  another ;  and  the  party  flew  asunder  in  terror. 
Next  moment  armed  men  were  to  be  seen  pressing  forward 
to  the  spot  where  the  horses  were  eating  their  fodder,  not  far 
from  the  coaches  that  were  packed  with  luggage. 

A  universal  scream  proceeded  from  the  women  :  our  heroes 
threw  away  their  rapiers,  seized  their  pistols,  and  ran  towards 
the  robbers  ;  demanding,  with  violent  threats,  the  meaning 
of  such  conduct. 

This  question  being  answered  laconically,  with  a  couple  of 
musket-shots,  Wilhelm  fired  his  pistol  at  a  crisp-headed  knave, 
who  had  got  upon  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  was  cutting  the 
cords  of  the  package.  Rightly  hit,  this  artist  instantly  came 
tumbling  down  ;  nor  had  Laertes  missed.  Both,  encouraged 
by  success,  drew  their  side-arms ;  when  a  number  of  the 
plundering  party  rushed  out  upon  them,  with  curses  and  loud 
bellowing,  fired  a  few  shots  at  them,  and  fronted  their  im- 
petuosity with  glittering  sabres.  Our  young  heroes  made  a 
bold  resistance.  The}*  called  upon  their  other  comrades,  and 
endeavored  to  excite  them  to  a  general  resistance.  But, 
erelong,  Wilhelm  lost  the  sight  oft  day,  and  the  consciousness 
of  what  was  passing.  Stupefied  by  a  shot  that  wounded  him 
between  the  breast  and  the  left  arm,  by  a  stroke  that  split 
his  hat  in  two,  and  almost  penetrated  to  his  brain,  he  sank 
down,  and  only  by  the  narratives  of  others  came  afterwards 
to  understand  the  luckless  end  of  this  adventure. 

On  again  opening  his  eyes,  he  found  himself  in  the  strangest 
posture.  The  first  thing  that  pierced  the  dimness,  which  yet 
swam  before  his  vision,  was  Philina's  face  bent  down  over 
his.  He  felt  weak,  and,  making  a  movement  to  rise,  dis- 
covered that  he  was  in  Philina's  lap  ;  into  which,  indeed,  he 
again  sank  down.  She  was  sitting  on  the  sward.  She  had 
softly  pressed  towards  her  the  head  of  the  fallen  young  man, 
and  made  for  him  an  easy  couch,  as  far  as  in  her  power. 
Mignon  was  kneeling  with  dishevelled  and  bloody  hair  at  his 
feet,  which  she  embraced  with  many  tears. 

On  noticing  his  bloody  clothes,  Wilhelm  asked,  in  a  broken 
voice,  where  he  was,  and  what  had  happened  to  him  and  the 
rest.  Philina  begged  him  to  be  quiet :  the  others,  she  said, 
were  all  in  safety,  and  none  but  he  and  Laertes  wounded. 
Further  she  would  tell  him  nothing,  but  earnestly  entreated 
him  to  keep  still,  as  his  wounds  had  been  but  slightly  and 
hastily  bound.  He  stretched  out  his  hand  to  Mignon,  and 
inquired  about  the  bl-oody  locks  of  the  child,  who  he  sup- 
posed was  also  wounded. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  205 

For  the  sake  of  quietness,  Philina  let  him  know  that  this 
true-hearted  creature,  seeing  her  friend  wounded,  and  in  the 
hurry  of  the  instant  being  able  to  think  of  nothing  which 
would  stanch  the  blood,  had  taken  her  own  hair,  that  was 
flowing  round  her  head,  and  tried  to  stop  the  wounds  with 
it,  but  had  soon  been  obliged  to  give  up  the  vain  attempt ; 
that  afterwards  they  had  bound  him  with  moss  and  dry  mush- 
rooms, Philina  giving  up  her  neckerchief  for  that  purpose. 

Wilhelm  noticed  that  Philina  was  sitting  with  her  back 
against  her  own  trunk,  which  still  looked  firmly  locked  and 
quite  uninjured.  He  inquired  if  the  rest  also  had  been  so 
lucky  as  to  save  their  goods.  She  answered  with  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulders,  and  a  look  over  the  green,  where  broken 
chests,  and  coffers  beaten  into  fragments,  and  knapsacks 
ripped  up,  and  a  multitude  of  little  wares,  lay  scattered  all 
round.  No  person  was  to  be  seen  in  the  place,  this  strange 
group  thus  being  alone  in  the  solitude. 

Inquiring  further,  our  friend  learned  more  and  more  par- 
ticulars. The  rest  of  the  men,  it  appeared,  who,  at  all  events, 
might  still  have  made  resistance,  were  struck  with  terror, 
and  soon  overpowered.  Some  lied,  some  looked  with  hor- 
ror at  the  accident.  The  drivers,  for  the  sake  of  their  cat- 
tle, had  held  out  more  obstinately  ;  but  they,  too,  were  at  last 
thrown  clown  and  tied  ;  after  which,  in  a  few  minutes,  every 
thing  was  thoroughly  ransacked,  and  the  booty  carried  oft'. 
The  hapless  travellers,  their  fear  of  death  being  over,  had 
begun  to  mourn  their  loss  ;  had  hastened  with  the  greatest 
speed  to  the  neighboring  village,  taking  with  them  Laertes, 
whoso  wour.da  were  slight,  and  carrying  off  but  a  very  few 
fragments  of  their  property.  The  harper,  having  placed  his 
damaged  instrument  against  a  tree,  had  proceeded  in  their 
company  to  the  place,  to  seek  a  surgeon,  and  return  with  his 
utmost  rapidity  to  help  his  benefactor,  whom  he  had  left  ap- 
parently upon  the  brink  of  death. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MEANWHILE  our  three  adventurers  continued  yet  a  space 
in  their  strange  position,  no  one  returning  to  their  aid. 
Evening  was  advancing  :  the  darkness  threatened  to  come  on. 


206  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Philina's  indifference  was  changing  to  anxiety ;  Mignon  ran 
to  and  fro,  her  impatience  increasing  every  moment ;  and  at 
last,  when  their  prayer  was  granted,  and  human  creatures 
did  approach,  a  new  alarm  fell  upon  them.  They  distinctly 
heard  a  troop  of  horses  coming  up  the  road  they  had  lately 
travelled :  they  dreaded  lest  a  second  time  some  company 
of  unbidden  guests  might  be  purposing  to  visit  this  scene  of 
battle,  and  gather  up  the  gleanings. 

The  more  agreeable  was  their  surprise,  when,  after  a  few 
moments,  a  lady  issued  from  the  thickets,  riding  on  a  gray 
courser,  and  accompanied  by  an  elderly  gentleman  and  some 
cavaliers,  followed  by  grooms,  servants,  and  a  troop  of 
hussars. 

Philina  started  at  this  phenomenon,  and  was  about  to  call, 
and  entreat  the  fair  Amazon  for  help,  when  the  latter  turned 
her  astonished  eyes  on  the  group,  instantly  checked  her  horse, 
rode  up  to  them,  and  halted.  She  inquired  eagerly  about  the 
wounded  man,  whose  posture  in  the  lap  of  this  light-minded 
Samaritan  seemed  to  strike  her  as  peculiarly  strange. 

"  Is  he  your  husband?  "  she  inquired  of  Philina.  "  Only 
a  friend,"  replied  the  other,  with  a  tone  Wilhelm  liked  not 
at  all.  He  had  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  soft,  elevated,  calm, 
sympathizing  features  of  the  stranger :  he  thought  he  had 
never  seen  aught  nobler  or  more  lovely.  Her  shape  he  could 
not  see :  it  was  hid  by  a  man's  white  great-coat,  which  she 
seemed  to  have  borrowed  from  some  of  her  attendants,  to 
screen  her  from  the  chill  evening  air. 

By  this  the  horsemen  also  had  come  near.  Some  of  them 
dismounted :  the  lady  did  so  likewise.  She  asked,  with 
humane  sympathy,  concerning  every  circumstance  of  the 
mishap  which  had  befallen  the  travellers,  but  especially  con- 
cerning the  wounds  of  the  poor  youth  who  lay  before  her. 
Thereupon  she  turned  quickly  round,  and  went  aside  with 
the  old  gentleman  to  some  carriages,  which  were  slowly  com- 
ing up  the  hill,  and  which  at  length  stopped  upon  the  scene 
of  action. 

The  young  lady  having  stood  with  her  conductor  a  short 
time  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  coaches,  and  talked  with  the 
people  in  it,  a  man  of  a  squat  figure  stepped  out,  and  came 
along  with  them  to  our  wounded  hero.  By  the  little  box 
which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  the  leathern  pouch  with  in- 
struments in  it,  you  soon  recognized  him  for  a  surgeon.  His 
manners  were  rude  rather  than  attractive  ;  but  his  hand  was 
light,  and  his  help  welcome. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  207 

Having  examined  strictly,  he  declared  that  none  of  the 
wounds  were  dangerous.  He  would  dress  them,  he  said,  on 
the  spot ;  after  which  the  patient  might  be  carried  to  the 
nearest  village. 

The  young  lady's  anxiety  seemed  to  augment.  "  Do  but 
look,"  she  said,  after  going  to  and  fro  once  or  twice,  and 
again  bringing  the  old  gentleman  to  the  place :  "  look  how 
they  have  treated  him !  And  is  it  not  on  our  account  that 
he  is  suffering?  "  Wilhelm  heard  these  words,  but  did  not 
understand  them.  She  went  restlessly  up  and  down :  it 
seemed  as  if  she  could  not  tear  herself  away  from  the  pres- 
ence of  the  wounded  man  ;  while  at  the  same  time  she  feared 
to  violate  decorum  by  remaining,  when  they  had  begun, 
though  not  without  difficulty,  to  remove  some  part  of  his  ap- 
parel. The  surgeon  was  just  cutting  off  the  left  sleeve  of 
his  patient's  coat,  when  the  old  gentleman  came  near,  and 
represented  to  the  lady,  in  a  serious  tone,  the  necessity  of 
proceeding  on  their  journey.  Wilhelm  kept  his  eyes  bent  on 
her,  and  was  so  enchanted  with  her  looks,  that  he  scarcely 
felt  what  he  was  suffering  or  doing. 

Philina,  in  the  mean  time,  had  risen  to  kiss  the  lady's 
hand.  While  they  stood  beside  each  other,  Wilhelm  thought 
he  had  never  seen  such  a  contrast.  Philina  had  never  till 
now  appeared  in  so  unfavorable  a  light.  She  had  no  right, 
as  it  seemed  to  him,  to  come  near  that  noble  creature,  still 
less  to  touch  her. 

The  lady  asked  Philina  various  things,  but  in  an  under- 
tone. At  length i|he  turned  to  the  old  gentleman,  and  said, 
"  Dear  uncle,  may  I  be  generous  at  your  expense?  "  She 
took  off  the  great-coat,  with  the  visible  intention  to  give  it  to 
the  stripped  and  wounded  youth. 

Wilhelm,  whom  the  healing  look  of  her  eyes  had  hitherto 
held  fixed,  was  now,  as  the  surtout  fell  away,  astonished  at 
her  lovely  figure.  She  came  near,  and  softly  laid  the  coat 
above  him.  At  this  moment,  as  he  tried  to  open  his  mouth 
and  stammer  out  some  words  of  gratitude,  the  lively  impres- 
sion of  her  presence  worked  so  strongly  on  his  senses,  al- 
ready caught  and  bewildered,  that  all  at  once  it  appeared  to 
him  as  if  her  head  were  encircled  with  rays  ;  and  a  glancing 
light  seemed  by  degrees  to  spread  itself  over  all  her  form. 
At  this  moment  the  surgeon,  making  preparations  to  extract 
the  ball  from  his  wound,  gave  him  a  sharper  twinge ;  the 
angel  faded  away  from  the  eyes  of  the  fainting  patient ;  he 
lost  all  consciousness ;  and,  on  returning  to  himself,  the 


208  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

horsemen  and  coaches,  the  fair  one  with  her  attendants,  had 
vanished  like  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WILHELM'S  wounds  once  dressed,  and  his  clothes  put  on, 
the  surgeon  hastened  off,  just  as  the  harper  with  a  number 
of  peasants  arrived.  Out  of  some  cut  boughs,  which  they 
speedily  wattled  with  twigs,  a  kind  of  litter  was  constructed, 
upon  which  they  placed  the  wounded  youth,  and  under  the 
conduct  of  a  mounted  huntsman,  whom  the  noble  company 
had  left  behind  them,  carried  him  softly  down  the  mountain. 
The  harper,  silent,  and  shrouded  in  his  own  thoughts,  bore 
with  him  his  broken  instrument.  Some  men  brought  on 
Philina's  box,  herself  following  with  a  bundle.  Mignou 
skipped  along  through  copse  and  thicket,  now  before  the 
party,  now  beside  them,  and  looked  up  with  longing  eyes  at 
her  hurt  protector. 

He,  meanwhile,  wrapped  in  his  warm  surtout,  was  lying 
peacefully  upon  the  litter.  An  electric  warmth  seemed  to 
flow  from  the  fine  wool  into  his  body :  in  short,  he  felt  in  the 
most  delightful  frame  of  mind.  The  lovely  being,  whom  this 
garment  latch*  covered,  had  affected  him  to  the  very  heart. 
He  still  saw  the  coat  falling  down  from  hor  shoulders ;  saw 
that  noble  form,  begirt  with  radiance,  stanu  beside  him  ;  and 
his  soul  hied  over  rocks  and  forests  0:1  the  footsteps  of  his 
vanished  benefactress. 

It  was  nightfall  when  the  party  reached  the  village,  and 
halted  at  the  door  of  the  inn  where  the  rest  of  the  company, 
in  the  gloom  of  despondency,  were  bewailing  their  irrepara- 
ble loss.  The  one  little  chamber  of  the  house  was  crammed 
with  people.  Some  of  them  were  tying  upon  straw,  some 
were  occupying  benches,  some  had  squeezed  themselves  be- 
hind the  stove.  Frau  Melina,  in  a  neighboring  room,  was 
painfully  expecting  her  delivery.  Fright  had  accelerated 
this  event.  With  the  sole  assistance  of  the  landlady,  a 
young,  inexperienced  woman,  nothing  good  could  be  ex- 
pected. 

As  the  party  just  arrived  required  admission,  there  arose 
a  universal  murmur.  All  now  maintained,  that  by  Wilhelm's 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  209 

advice  alone,  and  tinder  his  especial  guidance,  they  had  en- 
tered on  this  dangerous  road,  and  exposed  themselves  to 
such  misfortunes.  They  threw  the  blame  of  the  disaster 
wholly  on  him  :  they  stuck  themselves  in  the  door,  to  oppose 
his  entrance ;  declaring  that  he  must  go  elsewhere  and  seek 
quarters.  Philiua  they  received  with  still  greater  indigna- 
tion, nor  did  Mignon  and  the  harper  escape  their  share. 

The  huntsman,  to  whom  the  care  of  the  forsaken  party 
had  been  earnestly  and  strictly  recommended  by  his  beauti- 
ful mistress,  soon  grew  tired  of  this  discussion :  he  rushed 
upon  the  company  with  oaths  and  menaces  ;  commanding 
them  to  fall  to  the  right  and  left,  and  make  way  for  this  new 
arrival.  They  now  began  to  pacify  themselves.  He  made 
a  place  for  Wilhelm  on  a  table,  which  he  shoved  into  a  cor- 
ner :  Philina  had  her  box  put  there,  and  then  sat  down  upon 
it.  All  packed  themselves  as  they  best  could,  and  the 
huntsman  went  away  to  see  if  he  could  not  find  for  "  the 
young  couple ' '  a  more  convenient  lodging. 

Scarcely  was  he  gone,  when  spite  again  grew  noisy,  and 
one  reproach  began  to  follow  close  upon  another.  Each  de- 
scribed and  magnified  his  loss,  censuring  the  foolhardiness 
they  had  so  keenly  smarted  for.  They  did  not  even  hide  the 
malicious  satisfaction  they  felt  at  Wilhelm's  wounds :  they 
jeered  Philina,  and  imputed  to  her  as  a  crime  the  means  by 
which  she  had  saved  her  trunk.  From  a  multitude  of  jibes 
and  bitter  innuendoes,  you  were  required  to  conclude,  that, 
during  the  plundering  and  discomfiture,  she  had  endeavored 
to  work  herself  into  favor  with  the  captain  of  the  band,  and 
had  persuaded  him,  Heaven  knew  by  what  arts  and  complais- 
ance, to  give  her  back  the  chest  unhurt.  To  all  this  she 
answered  nothing,  only  clanked  with  the  large  padlocks  of 
her  box,  to  impress  her  censurers  completely  with  its  pres- 
ence, and  by  her  own  good  fortune  to  augment  their  des- 
peration. 


CHAFfER  VIII.     - 

THOUGH  our  friend  was  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  and 
though,  ever  since  the  appearance  of  that  helpful  angel,  his 
feelings  had  been  soft  and  mild,  yet  at  last  he  could  not 
help  getting  vexed  at  the  harsh  and  unjust  speeches  which,  as 


210  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

he  continued  silent,  the  discontented  company  went  on  utter- 
ing against  him.  Feeling  himself  strong  enough  to  sit  up, 
and  expostulate  on  the  annoyance  they  were  causing  to  their 
friend  and  leader,  he  raised  his  bandaged  head,  and  prop- 
ping himself  with  some  difficulty,  and  leaning  against  the 
wall,  he  began  to  speak  as  follows :  — 

"  Considering  the  pain  your  losses  occasion,  I  forgive  you 
for  assailing  me  with  injuries  at  a  moment  when  you  should 
condole  with  me ;  for  opposing  and  casting  me  from  you 
the  first  time  I  have  needed  to  look  to  you  for  help.  The 
services  I  did  you,  the  complaisance  I  showed  you,  I  re- 
garded as  sufficiently  repaid  by  your  thanks,  by  your  friendly 
conduct :  do  not  warp  my  thoughts,  do  not  force  my  heart  to 
go  back  and  calculate  what  I  have  done  for  you  ;  the  calcu- 
lation would  be  painful  to  me.  Chance  brought  me  near 
you,  circumstances  and  a  secret  inclination  kept  me  with  you. 
I  participated  in  your  labors  and  your  pleasures  :  my  slender 
abilities  were  ever  at  your  service.  If  you  now  blame  me 
with  bitterness  for  the  mishap  that  has  befallen  us,  you  do 
not  recollect  that,  the  first  project  of  taking  this  road  came  to 
us  from  stranger  people,  was  weighed  by  all  of  you,  and  sanc- 
tioned by  every  one  as  well  as  by  me. 

"  Had  our  journey  ended  happily,  each  would  have  taken 
credit  to  himself  for  the  happy  thought  of  suggesting  this 
plan,  and  preferring  it  to  others ;  each  would  joyfully  have 
put  us  in  mind  of  our  deliberations,  and  of  the  vote  he  gave : 
but  now  you  make  me  alone  responsible ;  you  force  a  piece 
of  blame  upon  me,  which  I  would  willingly  submit  to,  if  my 
conscience,  with  a  clear  voice,  did  not  pronounce  me  inno- 
cent, nay,  if  I  might  not  appeal  with  safety  even  to  your- 
selves. If  you  have  aught  to  say  against  me,  bring  it 
forward  in  order,  and  I  shall  defend  myself ;  if  you  have 
nothing  reasonable  to  allege,  then  be  silent,  and  do  not  tor- 
ment me  now,  when  I  have  such  pressing  need  of  rest." 

By  way  of  answer,  1?he  girls  once  more  began  whimpering 
and  whining,  and  describing  their  losses  circumstantially. 
Melina  was  quite  beside  himself ;  for  he  had  suffered  more 
in  purse  than  any  of  them,  —  more,  indeed,  than  we  can 
rightly  estimate.  He  stamped  like  a  madman  up  and  down 
the  little  room,  he  knocked  his  head  against  the  wall,  he 
swore  and  scolded  in  the  most  unseemly  manner ;  and  the 
landlady  entering  at  this  very  time  with  news  that  his  wife 
had  been  delivered  of  a  dead  child,  he  yielded  to  the  most 
furious  ebullitions ;  while,  in  accordance  with  him,  all  howled 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  211 

and  shrieked,  and  bellowed  and  uproared,  with  double 
vigor. 

Wilhelm,  touched  to  the  heart  at  the  same  time  with  sym- 
pathy for  their  sorrows  and  with  vexation  at  their  mean  way 
of  thinking,  felt  all  the  vigor  of  his  soul  awakened,  notwith- 
standing the  weakness  of  his  body.  "Deplorable  as  your 
case  may  be,"  exclaimed  he,  "I  shall  almost  be  compelled 
to  despise  you  !  No  misfortune  gives  us  right  to  load  an  in- 
nocent man  with  reproaches.  If  I  had  share  in  this  false 
step,  am  not  I  suffering  my  share?  I  lie  wounded  here; 
and,  if  the  company  has  come  to  loss,  I  myself  have  come  to 
most.  The  wardrobe  of  which  we  have  been  robbed,  the 
decorations  that  are  gone,  were  mine  ;  for  you,  Herr  Melina, 
have  not  yet  paid  me ;  and  I  here  fully  acquit  you  of  all 
obligation  in  that  matter." 

"It  is  well  to  give  what  none  of  us  will  ever  see  again," 
replied  Melina.  "  Your  money  was  lying  in  my  wife's  coffer, 
and  it  is  your  own  blame  that  you  have  lost  it.  But,  ah  !  if 
that  were  all !  "  And  thereupon  he  began  anew  to  stamp 
and  scold  and  squeal.  Every  one  recalled  to  memory  the 
superb  clothes  from  the  count's  wardrobe ;  the  buckles, 
watches,  snuff-boxes,  hats,  for  which  Melina  had  so  happily 
transacted  with  the  head  valet.  Each,  then,  thought  also  of 
his  own,  though  far  inferior,  treasures.  They  looked  with 
spleen  at  Philina's  box,  and  gave  Wilhelm  to  understand 
that  he  had  indeed  done  wisely  to  connect  himself  with  that 
fair  personage,  and  to  save  his  own  goods  also,  under  the 
shadow  of  her  fortune. 

"  Do  you  think,"  he  exclaimed  at  last,  "  that  I  shall  keep 
any  thing  apart  while  you  are  starving  ?  And  is  this  the  first 
time  I  have  honestly  shared  with  you  in  a  season  of  need  ? 
Open  the  trunk :  all  that  is  mine  shall  go  to  supply  the 
common  wants." 

"  It  is  my  trunk,"  observed  Philina,  "  and  I  will  not  open 
it  till  I  please.  Your  rag  or  two  of  clothes,  which  I  have 
saved  for  you,  could  amount  to  little,  though  they  were  sold 
to  the  most  conscientious  of  Jews.  Think  of  yourself, — 
what  your  cure  will  cost,  what  may  befall  you  in  a  strange 
country." 

"  You,  Philina,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  will  keep  back  from 
me  nothing  that  is  mine ;  and  that  little  will  help  us  out  of 
the  first  perplexity.  But  a  man  possesses  many  things  besides 
coined  money  to  assist  his  friends  with.  All  that  is  in  me 
shall  be  devoted  to  these  hapless  persons,  who,  doubtless, 


212  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

on  returning  to  their  senses,  will  repent  their  present  conduct. 
Yes,"  continued  he,  "  I  feel  that  you  have  need  of  help  ;  and, 
what  is  mine  to  do,  I  will  perform.  Give  me  your  confidence 
again  ;  compose  yourselves  for  a  moment,  and  accept  of  what 
I  promise.  Who  will  receive  the  engagement  of  me  in  the 
name  of  all?  " 

Here  he  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  cried,  "  I  promise  not 
to  flinch  from  you,  never  to  forsake  you  till  each  shall  see 
his  losses  doubly  and  trebly  repaired ;  till  the  situation  you 
are  fallen  into,  by  whose  blame  soever,  shall  be  totally  for- 
gotten by  all  of  you,  and  changed  with  a  better." 

He  kept  his  hand  still  stretched  out,  but  no  one  would 
take  hold  of  it.  "  I  promise  it  again,"  cried  he,  sinking  back 
upon  his  pillow.  All  continued  silent :  they  felt  ashamed,  but 
nothing  comforted :  and  Philina,  sitting  on  her  chest,  kept 
cracking  nuts,  a  stock  of  which  she  had  discovered  in  her 
pocket. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  huntsman  now  came  back  with  several  people,  and 
made  preparations  for  carrying  away  the  wounded  youth. 
He  had  persuaded  the  person  of  the  place  to  receive  the 
"young  couple  "  into  his  house;  Philina's  trunk  was  taken 
out ;  she  followed  with  a  natural  air  of  dignity.  Mignon  ran 
before  ;  and,  when  the  patient  reached  the  parsonage,  a  wide 
couch,  which  had  long  been  standing  ready  as  guest's  bed 
and  bed  of  honor,  was  assigned  him.  Here  it  was  first  dis- 
covered that  his  wound  had  opened,  and  bled  profusely.  A 
new  bandage  was  required  for  it.  He  fell  into  a  feverish 
state :  Philina  waited  on  him  faithfully ;  and,  when  fatigue 
overpowered  her,  she  was  relieved  by  the  harper.  Miguon, 
with  the  firmest  purpose  to  watch,  had  fallen  asleep  in  a 
corner. 

Next  morning  Wilhelm,  who  felt  himself  in  some  degree 
refreshed,  learned,  by  inquiring  of  the  huntsman,  that  the 
honorable  persons  who  last  night  assisted  him  so  nobly,  had 
shortly  before  left  their  estates,  in  order  to  avoid  the  move- 
ments of  the  contending  armies,  and  remain,  till  the  time  of 
peace,  in  some  more  quiet  district.  He  named  the  elderly 
nobleman,  as  well  as  his  niece,  mentioned  the  place  they 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  213 

were  first  going  to,  and  told  how  the  young  lady  had  charged 
him  to  take  care  of  Wilhelm. 

The  entrance  of  the  surgeon  interrupted  the  warm  expres- 
sions of  gratitude  our  friend  was  giving  vent  to.  He  made 
a  circumstantial  description  of  the  wounds,  and  certified  that 
they  would  soon  heal,  if  the  patient  tock  care  of  them,  and 
kept  himself  at  peace. 

When  the  huntsman  was  gone,  Philina  signified  that  he  had 
left  with  her  a  purse  of  twenty  louis-d'or;  that  he  had  given 
the  parson  a  remuneration  for  their  lodging,  and  left  with  him 
money  to  defray  the  surgeon's  bill  when  the  cure  should  be 
completed.  She  added,  that  she  herself  passed  everywhere 
for  Wilhelm's  wife  ;  that  she  now  begged  leave  to  introduce 
herself  once  for  all  to  him  in  this  capacity,  and  would  not 
allow  him  to  look  out  for  any  other  sick-nurse. 

"  Philina,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  in  this  disaster  that  has  over- 
taken us,  I  am  already  deeply  in  your  debt,  for  kindness 
shown  me ;  and  I  should  not  wish  to  see  my  obligations  in- 
creased. I  am  uneasy  so  long  as  you  are  about  me,  for  I 
know  of  nothing  by  which  I  can  repay  your  labor.  Give  me 
what  things  of  mine  you  have  saved  in  your  trunk  ;  join  the 
rest  of  the  company  ;  seek  another  lodging  ;  take  my  thanks, 
and  the  gold  watch  as  a  small  acknowledgment :  only  leave 
me  ;  your  presence  disturbs  me  more  than  you  can  fancy." 

She  laughed  in  his  face  when  he  had  ended.  "  Thou  art 
a  fool,"  she  said:  "  thou  wilt  not  gather  wisdom.  I  know 
better  what  is  good  for  thee :  I  will  sta}*,  I  will  not  budge 
from  the  spot.  I  have  never  counted  on  the  gratitude  of 
men,  and  therefore  not  on  thine ;  and,  if  I  have  a  touch 
of  kindness  for  thee,  what  hast  thou  to  do  with  it?  " 

She  staid  accordingly,  and  soon  wormed  herself  into 
favor  with  the  parson  and  his  household  ;  being  always  cheer- 
ful, having  the  knack  of  giving  little  presents,  and  of  talking 
to  each  in  his  own  vein ;  at  the  same  time  always  contriving 
to  do  exactly  what  she  pleased.  Wilhelm's  state,  was  not 
uncomfortable :  the  surgeon,  an  ignorant  but  not  unskilful 
man,  let  nature  have  sway  ;  and  the  patient  was  soon  on  the 
load  to  recovery.  For  such  a  consummation  he  vehemently 
longed,  being  eager  to  pursue  his  plans  and  wishes. 

Incessantly  he  kept  recalling  that  event,  which  had  made 
an  ineffaceable  impression  on  his  heart.  He  saw  the  beautiful 
Amazon  again  come  riding  out  of  the  thickets :  she  ap- 
proached him.  dismounted,  went  to  and  fro,  and  strove  to 
serve  him.  He  saw  the  garment  she  was  wrapped  in  fall 


214  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

down  from  her  shoulders  :  he  saw  her  countenance,  her  figure, 
vanish  in  their  radiance.  All  the  dreams  of  his  youth  now 
fastened  on  this  image.  Here  he  conceived  he  had  at  length 
beheld  the  noble,  the  heroic,  Clorinda  with  his  own  eyes  ;  and 
again  he  bethought  him  of  that  royal  youth,  to  whose  sick- 
bed the  lovely,  sympathizing  princess  came  in  her  modest 
meekness. 

"  May  it  not  be,"  said  he  often  to  himself  in  secret,  "  that, 
in  youth  as  in  sleep,  the  images  of  coming  things  hover 
round  us,  and  mysteriously  become  visible  to  our  unobstructed 
eyes  ?  May  not  the  seeds  of  what  is  to  betide  us  be  already 
scattered  by  the  hand  of  Fate?  may  not  a  foretaste  of  the 
fruits  we  yet  hope  to  gather  possibly  be  given  us  ?  " 

His  sick-bed  gave  him  leisure  to  repeat  those  scenes  in  every 
mood.  A  thousand  times  he  called  back  the  tone  of  that 
sweet  voice :  a  thousand  times  he  envied  Philina,  who  had 
kissed  that  helpful  hand.  Often  the  whole  incident  appeared 
before  him  as  a  dream ;  and  he  would  have  reckoned  it  a 
fiction,  if  the  white  surtout  had  not  been  left  behind  to  con- 
vince him  that  the  vision  had  a  real  existence. 

With  the  greatest  care  for  this  piece  of  apparel,  he  com- 
bined the  most  ardent  wish  to  wear  it.  The  first  time  he 
arose,  he  put  it  on,  and  was  kept  in  fear  all  day  lest  it  might 
be  hurt  by  some  stain  or  other  injury. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LAERTES  visited  his  friend.  He  had  not  been  present 
during  that  lively  scene  at  the  inn,  being  then  confined  to 
bed  in  an  upper  chamber.  For  his  loss  he  was  already  in  a 
great  degree  consoled  :  he  helped  himself  with  his  customary, 
"  What  does  it  signify?  "  He  detailed  various  laughable 
particulars  about  the  company ;  particularl}'  charging  Frau 
Melina  with  lamenting  the  loss  of  her  stillborn  daughter, 
solely  because  she  herself  could  not  on  that  account  enjoy  the 
Old-German  satisfaction  of  having  a  Mechthilde  christened. 
As  for  her  husband,  it  now  appeared  that  he  had  been  pos- 
sessed of  abundant  cash,  and  even  at  first  had  by  no  means 
needed  the  advances  which  he  had  cajoled  from  Wilhelm. 
Melina's  present  plan  was,  to  set  off  by  the  next  post-wagon  ; 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  215 

and  he  meant  to  require  of  Wilhelm  an  introductory  letter 
to  his  friend,  Manager  Serlo,  in  whose  company,  the  present 
undertaking  having  gone  to  wreck,  he  now  wished  to  establish 
himself. 

For  some  days  Mignon  had  been  singularly  quiet :  when 
pressed  with  questions,  she  at  length  admitted  that  her  right 
arm  was  out  of  joint.  "  Thou  hast  thy  own  folly  to  thank 
for  that,"  observed  Philina,  and  then  told  how  the  child  had 
drawn  her  sword  in  the  battle,  and,  seeing  her  friend  in  peril, 
had  struck  fiercely  at  the  freebooters,  one  of  whom  had  at 
length  seized  her  by  the  arm,  and  pitched  her  to  a  side. 
They  chid  her  for  not  sooner  speaking  of  her  ailment ;  but 
they  easily  saw  that  she  was  apprehensive  of  the  surgeon, 
who  had  hitherto  looked  on  her  as  a  boy.  With  a  view  to 
remove  the  mischief,  she  was  made  to  keep  her  arm  in  a  sling, 
which  arrangement,  too,  displeased  her;  for  now  she  was 
obliged  to  surrender  most  part  of  her  share  in  the  manage- 
ment and  nursing  of  our  friend  to  Philina.  That  pleasing 
sinner  but  showed  herself  the  more  active  and  attentive  on 
this  account. 

One  morning,  on  awakening,  Wilhelm  found  himself 
strangely  near  to  her.  In  the  movements  of  sleep,  he  had 
hitched  himself  quite  to  the  back  of  the  spacious  bed. 
Philina  was  lying  across  from  the  front  part  of  it :  she 
seemed  to  have  fallen  asleep  on  the  bed  while  sitting  there 
and  reading.  A  book  had  dropped  from  her  hand  :  she  had 
sunk  back ;  and  her  head  was  lying  near  his  breast,  over 
which  her  fair  and  now  loosened  hair  was  spread  in  streams. 
The  disorder  of  sleep  enlivened  her  charms  more  than  art  or 
purpose  could  have  done :  a  childlike  smiling  rest  hovered 
on  her  countenance.  He  looked  at  her  for  a  time,  and 
seemed  to  blame  himself  for  the  pleasure  this  gave  him. 
He  had  viewed  her  attentively  for  some  moments,  when  she 
began  to  awake.  He  softly  closed  his  eyes,  but  could  not 
help  glimmering  at  her  through  his  eyelashes,  as  she  trimmed 
herself  again,  and  went  away  to  see  about  breakfast. 

All  the  actors  had  at  length  successively  announced  them- 
selves to  Wilhelm ;  asking  introductory  letters,  requiring 
money  for  their  journey  with  more  or  less  impatience  and  ill- 
breeding,  and  constantly  receiving  it,  against  Philina's  will. 
It  was  in  vain  for  her  to  tell  our  friend  that  the  huntsman 
had  already  left  a  handsome  sum  with  these  people,  and  that 
accordingly  they  did  but  cozen  him.  To  these  remonstrances 
he  gave  no  heed :  on  the  contrary,  the  two  had  a  sharp  quar- 


216  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

rel  about  it ;  which  ended  by  Wilhelm  signifying,  once  for 
all,  that  Philina  must  now  join  the  rest  of  the  company,  and 
seek  her  fortune  with  Serlo. 

For  an  instant  or  two  she  lost  temper ;  but,  speedily  recov- 
ering her  composure,  she  cried,  "  If  I  had  but  my  fair-haired 
boy  again,  I  should  not  care  a  fig  for  any  of  you."  She 
meant  Friedrich,  who  had  vanished  from  the  scene  of  battle, 
and  never  since  appeared. 

Next  morning  Mignon  brought  news  to  the  bedside,  that 
Philina  had  gone  off  by  night ;  leaving  all  that  belonged  to 
Wilhelm  very  neatly  laid  out  in  the  next  room.  He  felt  her 
absence  ;  he  had  lost  in  her  a  faithful  nurse,  a  cheerful  com- 
panion ;  he  was  no  longer  used  to  be  alone.  But  Mignon 
soon  filled  up  the  blank. 

Ever  since  that  light-minded  beauty  had  been  near  the 
patient  with  her  friendly  cares,  the  little  creature  had  by 
degrees  drawn  back,  and  remained  silent  and  secluded  in 
herself ;  but,  the  field  being  clear  once  more,  she  again 
came  forth  with  her  attentions  and  her  love,  again  was  eager 
in  serving,  and  lively  in  entertaining,  him. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WILHELM  was  rapidly  approaching  complete  recovery :  he 
now  hoped  to  be  upon  his  journey  in  a  few  days.  He  pro- 
posed no  more  to  lead  an  aimless  routine  of  existence :  the 
steps  of  his  career  were  henceforth  to  be  calculated  for  an 
end.  In  the  first  place,  he  purposed  to  seek  out  that  benefi- 
cent lady,  and  express  the  gratitude  he  felt  to  her ;  then  to 
proceed  without  delay  to  his  friend  the  manager,  that  he 
might  do  his  utmost  to  assist  the  luckless  company  ;  intend- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  to  visit  the  commercial  friends  whom 
he  had  letters  for,  and  to  transact  the  business  which  had 
been  intrusted  to  him.  He  was  not  without  hope  that  for- 
tune, as  former!}',  would  favor  him,  and  give  him  opportu- 
nity, by  some  lucky  speculation,  to  repair  his  losses,  and  fill 
up  the  vacuity  of  his  coffer. 

The  desire  of  again  beholding  his  beautiful  deliverer  aug- 
mented every  day.  To  settle  his  route,  he  took  counsel 
with  the  clergyman,  —  a  person  well  skilled  in  statistics  and 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  217 

geography,  and  possessing  a  fine  collection  of  charts  and 
books.  They  two  searched  for  the  place  which  this  noble 
family  had  chosen  as  their  residence  while  the  war  contin- 
ued :  they  searched  for  information  respecting  the  family 
itself.  But  their  place  was  to  be  found  in  no  geography 
or  map,  and  the  heraldic  manuals  made  no  mention  of  their 
name. 

Wilhelm  grew  uneasy  ;  and,  having  mentioned  the  cause  of 
his  anxiety,  the  harper  told  him  he  had  reason  to  believe 
that  the  huntsman,  from  whatever  motive,  had  concealed  the 
real  designations. 

Conceiving  himself  now  to  be  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  his  lovely  benefactress,  Wilhelm  hoped  he  might 
obtain  some  tidings  of  her  if  he  sent  out  the  harper ;  but  in 
this,  too,  he  was  deceived.  Diligently  as  the  old  man  kept 
inquiring,  he  could  find  no  trace  of  her.  Of  late  days  a 
number  of  quick  movements  and  unforeseen  marches  had 
taken  place  in  that  quarter ;  no  one  had  particularly  noticed 
the  travelling  party ;  and  the  ancient  messenger,  to  avoid 
being  taken  for  a  Jewish  spy,  was  obliged  to  return,  and 
appear  without  an}'  olive-leaf  before  his  master  and  friend. 
He  gave  a  strict  account  of  his  conduct  in  this  commission, 
striving  to  keep  far  from  him  all  suspicions  of  remissness. 
He  endeavored  by  every  means  to  mitigate  the  trouble  of 
our  friend  ;  bethought  him  of  every  thing  that  he  had  learned 
from  the  huntsman,  and  advanced  a  number  of  conjectures ; 
out  of  all  which,  one  circumstance  at  length  came  to  light, 
whereby  Wilhelm  could  explain  some  enigmatic  words  of  his 
vanished  benefactress. 

The  freebooters,  it  appeared,  had  lain  in  wait,  not  for  the 
wandering  troop,  but  for  that  noble  company,  whom  they 
rightly  guessed  to  be  provided  with  store  of  gold  and  valua- 
bles, and  of  whose  movements  they  must  have  had  precise 
intelligence.  Whether  the  attack  should  be  imputed  to  some 
free  corps,  to  marauders,  or  to  robbers,  was  uncertain.  It 
was  clear,  however,  that,  by  good  fortune  for  the  high  and 
rich  company,  the  poor  and  low  had  first  arrived  upon  the 
place,  and  undergone  the  fate  which  was  provided  for  the 
others.  It  was  to  this  that  the  lady's  words  referred,  which 
Wilhelm  yet  well  recollected.  If  he  might  now  be  happy  and 
contented,  that  a  prescient  Genius  had  selected  him  for  the 
sacrifice,  which  saved  a  perfect  mortal,  he  was,  on  the  other 
hand,  nigh  desperate,  when  he  thought  that  all  hope  of  find- 
ing her  and  seeing  her  again  was,  at  least  for  the  present, 
completely  gone. 


218  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

What  increased  this  singular  emotion  still  further,  was  the 
likeness  which  he  thought  he  had  observed  between  the 
countess  and  the  beautiful  unknown.  They  resembled  one 
another  as  two  sisters  may,  of  whom  neither  can  be  called 
the  younger  or  the  elder,  for  they  seem  to  be  twins. 

The  recollection  of  the  amiable  countess  was  to  Wilhelm 
infinitely  sweet.  He  recalled  her  image  but  too  willingly  into 
his  memory.  But  anon  the  figure  of  the  noble  Amazon 
would  step  between  :  one  vision  melted  and  changed  into  the 
other,  and  the  form  of  neither  would  abide  with  him. 

A  new  resemblance  —  the  similarity  of  their  handwritings 
—  naturally  struck  him  with  still  greater  wonder.  He  had  a 
charming  song  in  the  countess's  hand  laid  up  in  his  port- 
folio ;  and  in  the  surtout  he  had  found  a  little  note,  inquiring 
with  much  tender  care  about  the  health  of  an  uncle. 

Wilhelm  was  convinced  that  his  benefactress  must  have 
penned  this  billet ;  that  it  must  have  been  sent  from  one 
chamber  to  another,  at  some  inn  during  their  journey,  and 
put  into  the  coat-pocket  by  the  uncle.  He  held  both  papers 
together ;  and,  if  the  regular  and  graceful  letters  of  the 
countess  had  already  pleased  him  much,  he  found  in  the  sim- 
ilar but  freer  lines  of  the  stranger  a  flowing  harmony  which 
could  not  be  described.  The  note  contained  nothing ;  yet 
the  strokes  of  it  seemed  to  affect  him,  as  the  presence  of 
their  fancied  writer  once  had  done. 

He  fell  into  a  dreamy  longing ;  and  well  accordant  with 
his  feelings  was  the  song  which  at  that  instant  Mignon  and 
the  harper  began  to  sing,  with  a  touching  expression,  in  the 
form  of  an  irregular  duet. 

"  'Tis  but  who  longing  knows, 
My  grief  can  measure. 
Alone,  reft  of  repose, 
All  joy,  all  pleasure, 
1  thither  look  to  those 
Soft  lines  of  azure. 
Ah !  far  is  he  who  knows 
Me,  and  doth  treasure. 
I  faint,  my  bosom  glows 
'Neath  pain's  sore  pressure. 
'Tis  but  who  longing  knows, 
My  grief  can  measure." 

—  Editor's  Version. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  219 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  soft  allurements  of  his  dear  presiding  angel,  far  from 
leading  oar  friend  to  any  one  determined  path,  did  but 
nourish  and  increase  the  unrest  he  had  previously  expe- 
rienced. A  secret  fire  was  gliding  through  his  veins  :  objects 
distinct  and  indistinct  alternated  within  his  soul,  and  awoke 
unspeakable  desire.  At  one  time  he  wished  for  a  horse,  at 
another  for  wings  ;  and  not  till  it  seemed  impossible  that  he 
could  stay,  did  he  look  round  him  to  discover  whither  he  was 
wanting  to  go. 

The  threads  of  his  destiny  had  become  so  strangely  entan- 
gled, he  wished  to  see  its  curious  knots  unravelled,  or  cut  in 
two.  Often  when  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse,  or  the  roll- 
ing of  a  carriage,  he  would  run  to  the  window,  and  look  out, 
in  hopes  it  might  be  some  one  seeking  him,  —  some  one,  even 
though  it  were  by  chance,  bringing  him  intelligence  and  cer- 
tainty and  joy.  He  told  stones  to  himself,  how  his  friend 
Werner  might  visit  these  parts,  and  come  upon  him  ;  how, 
perhaps,  Mariana  might  appear.  The  sound  of  every  post's 
horn  threw  him  into  agitation.  It  would  be  Melina  sending 
news  to  him  of  his  adventures :  above  all,  it  would  be  the 
huntsman  coming  back  to  carry  him  to  the  beauty  he  wor- 
shipped. 

Of  all  these  possibilities,  unhappily  no  one  occurred :  he 
was  forced  at  last  to  return  to  the  company  of  himself  ;  and, 
in  again  looking  through  the  past,  there  was  one  circum- 
stance which,  the  more  he  viewed  and  weighed  it,  grew  the 
more  offensive  and  intolerable  to  him.  It  was  his  unpros- 
perous  generalship,  of  which  he  never  thought  without 
vexation.  For  although,  on  the  evening  of  that  luckless 
day,  he  had  produced  a  pretty  fair  defence  of  his  conduct 
when  accused  by  the  company,  yet  he  could  not  hide  from 
himself  that  he  was  guilty.  On  the  contrary,  in  hypochon- 
driac moments,  he  took  the  blame  of  the  whole  misfortune. 

Self-love  exaggerates  our  faults  as  well  as  our  virtues. 
"VVilhelm  though  the  had  awakened  confidence  in  himself,  had 
guided  the  will  of  the  rest ;  that,  led  by  inexperience  and 
rashness,  they  had  ventured  on,  till  a  clanger  seized  them, 
for  which  they  were  no  match.  Loud  as  well  as  silent 
reproaches  had  then  assailed  him  ;  and  if,  in  their  sorrowful 
condition,  he  had  promised  the  company,  misguided  by  him, 
never  to  forsake  them  till  their  loss  had  been  repaid  with 


220  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

usury,  this  was  but  another  folly  for  which  he  had  to  blame 
himself,  —  the  folly  of  presuming  to  take  upon  his  single 
shoulders  a  misfortune  that  was  spread  over  many.  One 
instant  he  accused  himself  of  uttering  this  promise,  under 
the  excitement  and  the  pressure  of  the  moment ;  the  next,  he 
again  felt  that  this  generous  presentation  of  his  hand,  which 
no  one  deigned  to  accept,  was  but  a  light  formality  compared 
with  the  vow  his  heart  had  taken.  He  meditated  means  of 
being  kind  and  useful  to  them :  he  found  every  cause  con- 
spire to  quicken  his  visit  to  Seiio.  Accordingly  he  packed 
his  things  together ;  and  without  waiting  his  complete  re- 
coveiy,  without  listening  to  the  counsel  of  the  parson  or  of 
the  surgeon,  he  hastened,  in  the  strange  society  of  Miguon 
and  the  harper,  to  escape  the  inactivity  in  which  his  fate  had 
once  more  too  long  detained  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SERLO  received  him  with  open  arms,  crying  as  he  met  him, 
'k  Is  it  you?  Do  I  see  you  again?  You  have  scarcely 
changed  at  all.  Is  your  love  for  that  noblest  of  arts  still  as 
lively  and  strong?  So  glad  am  I  at  your  arrival,  that  I  even 
feel  no  longer  the  mistrust  your  last  letters  had  excited  iu 
me." 

Wilhelm  asked  with  surprise  for  a  clearer  explanation. 

"You  have  treated  me,"  said  Serlo,  "not  like  an  old 
friend,  but  as  if  I  were  a  great  lord,  to  whom  with  a  safe 
conscience  you  might  recommend  useless  people.  Our  des- 
tiny depends  on  the  opinion  of  the  public  ;  and  I  fear  Herr 
Melina  and  his  suite  can  hardly  be  received  among  us." 

Wilhelm  tried  to  say  something  in  their  favor ;  but  Serlo 
began  to  draw  so  merciless  a  picture  of  them,  that  our  friend 
was  happy  when  a  lady  came  into  the  room,  and  put  a  stop 
to  the  discussion.  She  was  introduced  to  him  as  Aurelia, 
the  sister  of  his  friend :  she  received  him  with  extreme  kind- 
ness ;  and  her  conversation  was  so  pleasing,  that  he  did  not 
even  remark  a  shade  of  sorrow  visible  on  her  expressive 
countenance,  to  which  it  lent  peculiar  interest. 

For  the  first  time  during  many  months,  Wilhelm  felt  once 
more  in  his  proper  element.  Of  late  in  talking,  he  had 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  221 

merely  found  submissive  listeners,  and  even  these  not  always  ; 
but  now  he  had  the  happiness  to  speak  with  critics  and 
artists,  who  not  only  fully  understood  him,  but  repaid  his 
observations  by  others  equally  instructive.  With  wonderful 
vivacity  they  travelled  through  the  latest  plays,  with  won- 
derful correctness  judged  them.  The  decisions  of  the  public 
they  could  try  and  estimate :  they  speedily  threw  light  on 
each  other's  thoughts. 

Loving  Shakspeare  as  our  friend  did,  he  failed  not  to  lead 
round  the  conversation  to  the  merits  of  that  dramatist.  Ex- 
pressing, as  he  entertained,  the  liveliest  hopes  of  the  new 
epoch  which  these  exquisite  productions  must  form  in  Ger- 
many, he  erelong  introduced  his  "  Hamlet,"  which  play  had 
busied  him  so  much  of  late. 

Serlo  declared  that  he  would  long  ago  have  represented  the 
play,  had  it  at  all  been  possible,  and  that  he  himself  would 
willingty  engage  to  act  Polonius.  He  added,  with  a  smile, 
"  An  Ophelia,  too,  will  certainly  turn  up,  if  we  had  but  a 
Prince." 

Wilhelm  did  not  notice  that  Aurelia  seemed  a  little  hurt  at 
her  brother's  sarcasm.  Our  friend  was  in  his  proper  vein, 
becoming  copious  and  didactic,  expounding  how  he  would 
have  "Hamlet"  played.  He  circumstantiall}-  delivered  to 
his  hearers  the  opinions  we  before  saw  him  busied  with  ;  tak- 
ing all  the  trouble  possible  to  make  his  notion  of  the  matter 
acceptable,  sceptical  as  Serlo  showed  himself  regarding  it. 
"Well,  then,"  said  the  latter  finally,  "suppose  we  grant 
you  all  this,  what  will  you  explain  by  it?  " 

"  Much,  every  thing,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  Conceive  a  prince 
such  as  I  have  painted  him,  and  that  his  father  suddenly 
dies.  Ambition  and  the  love  of  rule  are  not  the  passions 
that  inspire  him.  As  a  king's  son,  he  would  have  been  con- 
tented ;  but  now  he  is  first  constrained  to  consider  the  differ- 
ence which  separates  a  sovereign  from  a  subject.  The  crown 
was  not  hereditary ;  yet  his  father's  longer  possession  of  it 
would  have  strengthened  the  pretensions  of  an  only  son, 
and  secured  his  hopes  of  succession.  In  place  of  this,  he 
now  beholds  himself  excluded  by  his  uncle,  in  spite  of  spe- 
cious promises,  most  probably  forever.  He  is  now  poor  in 
goods  and  favor,  and  a  stranger  in  the  scene  which  from 
youth  he  had  looked  upon  as  his  inheritance.  His  temper 
here  assumes  its  first  mournful  tinge.  He  feels  that  now  he 
is  not  more,  that  he  is  less,  than  a  private  nobleman  ;  he 
offers  himself  as  the  servant  of  every  one  ;  he  is  not  cour- 
teous and  condescending,  he  is  needy  and  degraded. 


222  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  His  past  condition  he  remembers  as  a  vanished  dream. 
It  is  in  vain  that  his  uncle  strives  to  cheer  him,  to  present 
his  situation  in  another  point  of  view.  The  feeling  of  his 
nothingness  will  not  leave  him. 

"  The  second  stroke  that  came  upon  him  wounded  deeper, 
bowed  still  more.  It  was  the  marriage  of  his  mother.  The 
faithful,  tender  son  had  yet  a  mother,  when  his  father  passed 
away.  He  hoped,  in  the  company  of  his  surviving  noble- 
minded  parent,  to  reverence  the  heroic  form  of  the  departed : 
but  his  mother,  too,  he  loses  ;  and  it  is  something  worse  than 
death  that  robs  him  of  her.  The  trustful  image,  which  a 
good  chilk  loves  to  form  of  its  parents,  is  gone.  With  the 
dead  there  is  no  help,  on  the  living  no  hold.  Moreover,  she 
is  a  woman ;  and  her  name  is  Frailty,  like  that  of  all  her 
sex. 

"  Now  only  does  he  feel  completely  bowed  down,  now  only 
orphaned ;  and  no  happiness  of  life  can  repay  what  he  has 
lost.  Not  reflective  or  sorrowful  by  nature,  reflection  and 
sorrow  have  become  for  him  a  heavy  obligation.  It  is  thus 
that  we  see  him  first  enter  on  the  scene.  I  do  not  think  that 
I  have  mixed  aught  foreign  with  the  play,  or  overcharged  a 
single  feature  of  it." 

Serlo  looked  at  his  sister,  and  said,  "Did  I  give  thee  a 
false  picture  of  our  friend  ?  He  begins  well :  he  has  still 
many  things  to  tell  us,  many  to  persuade  us  of."  Wilhelm 
asseverated  loudly,  that  he  meant  not  to  persuade,  but  to 
convince  :  he  begged  for  another  moment's  patience. 

"  Figure  to  yourselves  this  youth,"  cried  he,  "  this  son  of 
princes ;  conceive  him  vividly,  bring  his  state  before  your 
eyes,  and  then  observe  him  when  he  learns  that  his  father's 
spirit  walks  ;  stand  by  him  in  the  terrors  of  the  night,  when 
even  the  venerable  ghost  appears  before  him.  He  is  seized 
with  boundless  horror ;  he  speaks  to  the  mysterious  form  ; 
he  sees  it  beckon  him ;  he  follows  and  hears.  The  fearful 
accusation  of  his  uncle  rings  in  his  ears,  the  summons  to 
revenge,  and  the  piercing,  oft-repeated  prayer,  Remember 
me ! 

"  And,  when  the  ghost  has  vanished,  who  is  it  that  stands 
before  us?  A  young  hero  panting  for  vengeance ?  A  prince 
by  birth,  rejoicing  to  be  called  to  punish  the  usurper  of  his 
crown  ?  No !  trouble  and  astonishment  take  hold  of  the 
solitary  young  man  :  he  grows  bitter  against  smiling  villains, 
swears  that  he  will  not  forget  the  spirit,  and  concludes  with 
the  significant  ejaculation,  — 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  223 

"  'The  time  is  out  of  joint:  O  cursed  spite, 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right! ' 

"  In  these  words,  I  imagine,  will  be  found  the  key  to 
Hamlet's  whole  procedure.  To  me  it  is  clear  that  Sliak- 
speare  meant,  in  the  present  case,  to  represent  the  effects  of 
a  great  action  laid  upon  a  soul  unfit  for  the  performance 
of  it.  In  this  view  the  whole  play  seems  to  me  to  be  com- 
posed. There  is  an  oak-tree  planted  in  a  costly  jar,  which 
should  have  borne  only  pleasant  flowers  in  its  bosom :  the 
roots  expand,  the  jar  is  shivered. 

"A  lovely,  pure,  noble,  and  most  moral  nature,  without 
the  strength  of  nerve  which  forms  a  hero,  sinks  beneath  a 
burden  it  cannot  bear  and  must  not  cast  away.  All  duties 
are  holy  for  him :  the  present  is  too  hard.  Impossibilities 
have  been  required  of  him,  —  not  in  themselves  impossibili- 
ties, but  such  for  him.  He  winds  and  turns,  and  torments 
himself  ;  he  advances  and  recoils  ;  is  ever  put  in  mind,  ever 
puts  himself  in  mind ;  at  last  does  all  but  lose  his  purpose 
from  his  thoughts,  yet  still  without  recovering  his  peace  of 
mind." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SEVERAL  people  entering  interrupted  the  discussion.  They 
were  musical  dilettanti,  who  commonly  assembled  at  Serlo's 
once  a  week,  and  formed  a  little  concert.  Serlo  himself  loved 
music  much :  he  used  to  maintain,  that  a  player  without  taste 
for  it  never  could  attain  a  distinct  conception  and  feeling  of 
the  scenic  art.  "Asa  man  performs,"  he  would  observe, 
u  with  far  more  ease  and  dignity  when  his  gestures  are  ac- 
companied and  guided  by  a  tune ;  so  the  player  ought,  in 
idea  as  it  were,  to  set  to  music  even  his  prose  parts,  that  he 
may  not  monotonously  slight  them  over  in  his  individual  style, 
but  treat  them  in  suitable  alternation  by  time  and  measure." 

Aurelia  seemed  to  give  but  little  heed  to  what  was  passing : 
at  last  she  conducted  Wilhelm  to  another  room  ;  and  going 
to  the  window,  and  looking  out  at  the  starry  sky,  she  said  to 
him,  "  You  have  more  to  tell  us  about  Hamlet:  I  will  not 
hurry  you,  —  my  brother  must  hear  it  as  well  as  I ;  but  let  me 
beg  to  know  your  thoughts  about  Ophelia." 


224  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Of  her  there  cannot  much  be  said,"  he  answered  ;  "  for 
a  few  master-strokes  complete  her  character.  The  whole 
being  of  Ophelia  floats  in  sweet  and  ripe  sensation.  Kind- 
ness for  the  prince,  to  whose  hand  she  may  aspire,  flows  so 
spontaneously,  her  tender  heart  obeys  its  impulses  so  unre- 
sistingly, that  both  father  and  brother  are  afraid  :  both  give 
her  warning  harshly  and  directly.  Decorum,  like  the  thin 
lawn  upon  her  bosom,  cannot  hide  the  soft,  still  movements 
of  her  heart :  it,  on  the  contrary,  betrays  them.  Her  fancy 
is  smit ;  her  silent  modesty  breathes  amiable  desire  ;  and,  if 
the  friendly  goddess  Opportunity  should  shake  the  tree,  its 
fruit  would  fall." 

"And  then,"  said  Aurelia,  "when  she  beholds  herself 
forsaken,  cast  away,  despised ;  when  all  is  inverted  in  the 
soul  of  her  crazed  lover,  and  the  highest  changes  to  the 
lowest,  and,  instead  of  the  sweet  cup  of  love,  he  offers  her 
the  bitter  cup  of  woe ' '  — 

"Her  heart  breaks,"  cried  Wilhelm ;  "the  whole  struc- 
ture of  her  being  is  loosened  from  its  joinings  ;  her  father's 
death  strikes  fiercely  against  it,  and  the  fair  edifice  alto- 
gether crumbles  into  fragments." 

Our  friend  had  not  observed  with  what  expressiveness 
Aurelia  pronounced  those  words.  Looking  only  at  this  work 
of  art,  at  its  connection  and  completeness,  he  dreamed  not 
that  his  auditress  was  feeling  quite  a  different  influence ; 
that  a  deep  sorrow  of  her  own  was  vividly  awakened  in  her 
breast  by  these  dramatic  shadows. 

Aurelia's  head  was  still  resting  on  her  arms  ;  and  her  eyes, 
now  full  of  tears,  were  turned  to  the  sky.  At  last,  no  longer 
able  to  conceal  her  secret  grief,  she  seized  both  hands  of  her 
friend,  and  exclaimed,  while  he  stood  surprised  before  her, 
"Forgive,  forgive  a  heavy  heart!  I  am  girt  and  pressed 
together  by  these  people ;  from  my  hard-hearted  brother 
I  must  seek  to  hide  myself ;  your  presence  has  untied  these 
feonds.  My  friend  !  "  continued  she,  "  it  is  but  a  few  min- 
utes since  we  saw  each  other  first,  and  already  you  are  going 
to  become  my  confidant."  She  could  scarcely  end  the  words, 
and  sank  upon  his  shoulder.  "Think  not  worse  of  me," 
she  said,  with  sobs,  "  that  I  disclose  myself  to  you  so  hastily, 
that  I  am  so  weak  before  you.  Be  my  friend,  remain  my 
friend  :  I  shall  deserve  it."  He  spoke  to  her  in  his  kindest 
manner,  but  in  vain :  her  tears  still  flowed,  and  choked  her 
words. 

At  this  moment  Serlo  entered,  most  unwelcomely,  and, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  225 

most  unexpectedly,  Philina,  with  her  hand  in  his.  "  Here  is 
your  friend,"  said  he  to  her:  "  he  will  be  glad  to  welcome 
you." 

"What!"  cried  Wilhelm  in  astonishment:  "are  you 
here?  "  With  a  modest,  settled  mien,  she  went  up  to  him  ; 
bade  him  welcome  ;  praised  Serlo's  goodness,  who,  she  said, 
without  merit  on  her  part,  but  purely  in  the  hope  of  her  im- 
provement, had  agreed  to  admit  her  into  his  accomplished 
troop.  She  behaved,  all  the  while,  in  a  friendly  manner 
towards  Wilhelm,  yet  with  a  dignified  distance. 

But  this  dissimulation  lasted  only  till  the  other  two  were 
gone.  Aurelia  having  left  them,  that  she  might  conceal  her 
trouble,  and  Serlo  being  called  away,  Philina  first  looked  very 
sharply  at  the  doors,  to  see  that  both  were  really  out ;  then 
began  skipping  to  and  fro  about  the  room,  as  if  she  had  been 
mad ;  at  last  dropped  down  upon  the  floor,  like  to  die  of 
giggling  and  laughing.  She  then  sprang  up,  patted  and  flat- 
tered our  friend ;  rejoicing  above  measure  that  she  had  been 
clever  enough  to  go  before,  and  spy  the  laud,  and  get  herself 
nestled  in. 

"  Pretty  things  are  going  on  here,"  she  said;  "just  of 
the  sort  I  like.  Aurelia  has  had  a  hapless  love-affair  with 
some  nobleman,  who  seems  to  be  a  very  stately  person,  one 
whom  I  myself  could  like  to  see  some  day.  He  has  left  her 
a  memorial,  or  I  much  mistake.  There  is  a  boy  running 
about  the  house,  of  three  years  old  or  so  :  the  papa  must  be 
a  very  pretty  fellow.  Commonly  I  cannot  suffer  children, 
but  this  brat  quite  delights  me.  I  have  calculated  Aurelia's 
business.  The  death  of  her  husband,  the  new  acquaintance, 
the  child's  age,  — all  things  agree. 

"  But  now  her  spark  has  gone  his  ways :  for  a  year  she 
has  not  seen  a  glimpse  of  him.  She  is  beside  herself  and  in- 
consolable on  this  account.  The  more  fool  she  !  Her  brother 
has  a  dancing-girl  in  his  troop,  with  whom  he  stands  on  pretty 
terms ;  an  actress  with  whom  he  is  intimate  ;  in  the  town, 
some  other  women  whom  he  courts ;  I,  too,  am  on  his  list. 
The  more  fool  he !  Of  the  rest  thou  shalt  hear  to-morrow. 
And  now  one  word  about  Philina,  whom  thou  knowest :  the 
arch-fool  is  fallen  in  love  with  thee."  She  swore  it  was 
true  and  prime  sport.  She  earnestly  requested  Wilhelm  to 
fall  in  love  with  Aurelia,  for  then  the  chase  would  be  worth 
beholding.  "She  pursues  her  faithless  swain,  thou  her,  I 
thee,  her  brother  me.  If  that  will  not  divert  us  for  a  quarter 
of  a  year,  I  engage  to  die  at  the  first  episode  which  occurs 


226  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

in  this  four  times  complicated  tale."  She  begged  of  him 
not  to  spoil  her  trade,  and  to  show  her  such  respect  as  her 
external  conduct  should  deserve. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

NEXT  morning  "Wilhelm  went  to  visit  Frau  Melina,  but 
found  her  not  at  home.  On  inquiring  here  for  the  other 
members  of  the  wandering  community,  he  learned  that  Phi- 
lina  had  invited  them  to  breakfast.  Out  of  curiosity,  he 
hastened  thither,  and  found  them  all  in  very  good  spirits 
and  of  good  comfort.  The  cunning  creature  had  collected 
them,  was  treating  them  with  chocolate,  and  giving  them  to 
understand  that  some  prospects  still  remained  for  them ; 
that,  by  her  influence,  she  hoped  to  convince  the  manager 
how  advantageous  it  would  be  for  him  to  introduce  so  many 
clever  hands  among  his  company.  They  listened  to  her  with 
attention  ;  swallowed  cup  after  cup  of  her  chocolate  ;  thought 
the  girl  was  not  so  bad,  after  all,  and  went  away  proposing 
to  themselves  to  speak  whatever  good  of  her  they  could. 

"Do  you  think,  then,"  said  our  friend,  who  staid  behind, 
' '  that  Serlo  will  determine  to  retain  our  comrades  ?  "  —  "  Not 
at  all,"  replied  Philina;  "nor  do  I  care  a  fig  for  it.  The 
sooner  they  are  gone,  the  better !  Laertes  alone  1  could 
wish  to  keep  :  the  rest  we  shall  by  and  by  pack  off. ' ' 

Next  she  signified  to  Wilhelm  her  firm  persuasion  that  he 
should  no  longer  hide  his  talent,  but,  under  the  direction  of 
a  Seiio,  go  upon  the  boards.  She  was  lavish  in  her  praises 
of  the  order,  the  taste,  the  spirit,  which  prevailed  in  this 
establishment :  she  spoke  so  flatteringly  to  Wilhelm,  with 
such  admiration  of  his  gifts,  that  his  heart  and  his  imagina- 
tion were  advancing  towards  this  proposal  as  fast  as  his 
understanding  and  his  reason  were  retreating  from  it.  He 
concealed  his  inclination  from  himself  and  from  Philina,  and 
passed  a  restless  day,  unable  to  resolve  on  visiting  his  trad- 
ing correspondents,  to  receive  the  letters  which  might  there 
be  lying  for  him.  The  anxieties  of  his  people  during  all 
this  time  he  easily  conceived ;  yet  he  shrank  from  the  pre- 
cise account  of  them,  particularly  at  the  present  time,  as  he 
promised  to  himself  a  great  and  pure  enjoyment  from  the 
exhibition  of  a  new  play  that  evening. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  227 

Serlo  had  refused  t»  let  him  witness  the  rehearsal.  "  You 
must  see  us  on  the  best  side,"  he  observed,  "  before  we  can 
allow  you  to  look  into  our  cards." 

The  performance,  however,  where  our  friend  did  not  fail 
to  be  present,  yielded  him  a  high  satisfaction.  It  was  the 
first  time  he  had  ever  seen  a  theatre  in  such  perfection.  The 
actors  were  evidently  all  possessed  of  excellent  gifts,  supe- 
rior capacities,  and  a  high,  clear  notion  of  their  art ;  they 
were  not  equal,  but  they  mutually  restrained  and  supported 
one  another ;  each  breathed  ardor  into  those  around  him ; 
throughout  all  their  acting,  they  showed  themselves  decided 
and  correct.  You  soon  felt  that  Serlo  was  the  soul  of  the 
whole :  as  an  individual,  he  appeared  to  much  advantage. 
A  merry  humor,  a  measured  vivacity,  a  settled  feeling  of 
propriety,  combined  with  a  great  gift  of  imitation,  were  to 
be  observed  in  him  the  moment  he  appeared  upon  the  stage. 
The  inward  contentment  of  his  being  seemed  to  spread  itself 
over  all  that  looked  on  him ;  and  the  intellectual  style  in 
which  he  could  so  easily  and  gracefully  express  the  finest 
shadings  of  his  part,  excited  more  delight,  as  he  could  con- 
ceal the  art  which,  by  long-continued  practice,  he  had  made 
his  own. 

Aurelia,  his  sister,  was  not  inferior :  she  obtained  still 
greater  approbation ;  for  she  touched  the  souls  of  the  audi- 
ence, which  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  exhilarate  and  amuse. 

After  a  few  days  had  passed  pleasantly  enough,  Aurelia 
sent  to  inquire  for  our  friend.  He  hastened  to  her :  she  was 
lying  on  a  sofa ;  she  seemed  to  be  suffering  from  headache  ; 
her  whole  frame  had  visibly  a  feverish  movement.  Her  eye 
lighted  up  as  she  noticed  Wilhelm.  "Pardon  me!"  she 
cried,  as  he  entered  :  "  the  trust  you  have  inspired  me  with 
has  made  me  weak.  Till  now  I  have  contrived  to  bear  up 
against  my  woes  in  secret ;  nay,  they  gave  me  strength  and 
consolation :  but  now,  I  know  not  how  it  is,  you  have  loos- 
ened the  bands  of  silence.  You  will  now,  even  against  your 
will,  take  part  in  the  battle  I  am  fighting  with  myself !  " 

Wilhelm  answered  her  in  kind  and  obliging  terms.  He 
declared  that  her  image  and  her  sorrows  had  not  ceased  to 
hover  in  his  thoughts  ;  that  he  longed  for  her  confidence,  and 
devoted  himself  to  be  her  friend. 

While  he  spoke,  his  eyes  were  attracted  to  the  boy,  who 
sat  before  her  on  the  floor,  and  was  busy  rattling  a  multitude 
of  playthings.  This  child,  as  Philina  had  observed,  might 
be  about  three  years  of  age ;  and  Wilhelm  now  conceived 


228  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

how  that  giddy  creature,  seldom  elevated  in  her  phraseology, 
had  likened  it  to  the  sun.  For  its  cheerful  eyes  and  full 
countenance  were  shaded  by  the  finest  golden  locks,  which 
flowed  round  in  copious  curls  ;  dark,  slender,  softly  bending 
eyebrows  showed  themselves  upon  a  brow  of  dazzling  white- 
ness ;  and  the  living  tinge  of  health  was  glancing  on  its 
cheeks.  "Sit  by  me,"  said  Aurelia :  "you  are  looking  at 
the  happy  child  with  admiration  ;  in  truth,  I  took  it  into  my 
arms  with  joy ;  I  keep  it  carefully ;  yet,  by  it,  too,  I  can 
measure  the  extent  of  my  sufferings ;  for  they  seldom  let 
me  feel  the  worth  of  such  a  gift. 

"  Allow  me,"  she  continued,  "  to  speak  to  you  about  my- 
self and  my  destiny ;  for  I  have  it  much  at  heart  that  you 
should  not  misunderstand  me.  I  thought  I  should  have  a 
few  calm  instants  ;  and,  accordingly,  I  sent  for  you.  You 
are  now  here,  and  the  thread  of  my  narrative  is  lost. 

"'One  more  forsaken  woman  in  the  world!'  you  will 
say.  You  are  a  man.  You  are  thinking,  '  What  a  noise  she 
makes,  the  fool,  about  a  necessary  evil ;  which,  certainly  as 
death,  awaits  a  woman,  when  such  is  the  fidelity  of  men ! ' 
O  my  friend!  if  my  fate  were  common,  I  would  gladly  un- 
dergo a  common  evil ;  but  it  is  so  singular !  why  cannot  I 
present  it  to  you  in  a  mirror,  —  why  not  command  some  one 
to  tell  it  you?  Oh!  had  I,  had  I  been  seduced,  surprised, 
and  afterwards  forsaken,  there  would  then  still  be  comfort  in 
despair  ;  but  I  am  far  more  miserable.  I  have  been  my  own 
deceiver ;  I  have  wittingly  betrayed  myself ;  and  this,  this, 
is  what  shall  never  be  forgiven  me." 

"With  noble  feelings,  such  as  yours,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"  you  cannot  be  entirely  unhappy." 

"And  do  you  know  to  what  I  am  indebted  for  my  feel- 
ings?" asked  Aurelia.  "To  the  worst  education  that  ever 
threatened  to  contaminate  a  girl ;  to  the  vilest  examples  for 
misleading  the  senses  and  inclinations. 

"  My  mother  dying  early,  the  fairest  years  of  my  youth 
were  spent  with  an  aunt,  whose  principle  it  was  to  despise 
the  laws  of  decencj'.  She  resigned  herself  headlong  to 
every  impulse,  careless  whether  the  object  of  it  proved  her 
tyrant  or  her  slave,  so  she  might  forget  herself  in  wild  enjoy- 
ment. 

•  "By  children,  with  the  pure,  clear  vision  of  innocence, 
what  ideas  of  men  were  necessarily  formed  in  such  a  scene  ! 
How  stolid,  brutally  bold,  importunate,  unmannerly,  was 
every  one  she  allured!  How  sated,  empty,  insolent,  and 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  229 

insipid,  as  soon  as  he  had  had  his  wishes  gratified !  I  have 
seen  this  woman  live,  for  years,  humbled  under  the  control  of 
the  meanest  creatures.  .  What  incidents  she  had  to  undergo  ! 
With  what  a  front  she  contrived  to  accommodate  herself  to 
her  destiny ;  nay,  with  how  much  skill,  to  wear  these  shame- 
ful fetters ! 

"  It  was  thus,  my  friend,  that  I  became  acquainted  with 
your  sex ;  and  deeply  did  I  hate  it,  when,  as  I  imagined,  I 
observed  that  even  tolerable  men,  in  their  conduct  to  ours, 
appeared  to  renounce  every  honest  feeling,  of  which  nature 
might  otherwise  have  made  them  capable. 

''Unhappily,  moreover,  on  such  occasions,  a  multitude  of 
painful  discoveries  about  my  own  sex  were  forced  upon  me ; 
and,  in  truth,  I  was  then  wiser,  as  a  girl  of  sixteen,  than  I 
now  am,  now  that  I  scarcely  understand  myself.  Why  are 
we  so  wise  when  young,  —  so  wise,  and  ever  growing  less 
so?" 

The  boy  began  to  make  a  noise :  Aurelia  became  impa- 
tient, and  rang.  An  old  woman  came  to  take  him  out. 
"Hast  thou  toothache  still?"  said  Aurelia  to  the  crone, 
whose  face  was  wrapped  in  cloth.  "  Unsufferable,"  said  the 
other,  with  a  muffled  voice,  then  lifted  the  boy,  who  seemed 
to  like  going  with  her,  and  carried  him  away. 

Scarcely  was  he  gone,  when  Aurelia  began  bitterly  to  weep. 
"I  am  good  for  nothing,"  cried  she,  "but  lamenting  and 
complaining ;  and  I  feel  ashamed  to  lie  before  you  like  a 
miserable  worm.  My  recollection  is  already  fled  :  I  can  re- 
late no  more."  She  faltered,  and  was  silent.  Her  friend, 
unwilling  to  reply  with  a  commonplace,  and  unable  to  reply 
with  any  thing  particularly  applicable,  pressed  her  hand,  and 
looked  at  her  for  some  time  without  speaking.  Thus  embar- 
rassed, he  at  length  took  up  a  book,  which  he  noticed  lying 
on  the  table  before  him :  it  was  Shakspeare's  works,  and 
open  at  "Hamlet." 

Serlo.  at  this  moment  entering,  inquired  about  his  sister, 
and,  looking  in  the  book  which  our  friend  had  hold  of,  cried, 
"  So  you  are  again  at  '  Hamlet '  ?  Very  good  !  Many  doubts 
have  arisen  in  me,  which  seem  not  a  little  to  impair  the  ca- 
nonical aspect  of  the  play  as  you  would  have  it  viewed.  The 
English  themselves  have  admitted  that  its  chief  interest  con- 
cludes with  the  third  act ;  the  last  two  lagging  sorrily  on,  and 
scarcely  uniting  with  the  rest :  and  certainly  about  the  end 
it  seems  to  stand  stock-still." 

"  It  is  very  possible,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  some  individ- 


230  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

uals  of  a  nation,  which  has  so  many  masterpieces  to  feel 
proud  of,  may  be  led  by  prejudice  and  narrowness  of  mind 
to  form  false  judgments  ;  but  this  cannot  hinder  us  from 
looking  with  our  own  eyes,  and  doing  justice  where  we  see  it 
due.  I  am  very  far  from  censuring  the  plan  of  '  Hamlet'  :  oil 
the  other  hand,  I  believe  there  never  was  a  grander  one  in- 
vented ;  nay,  it  is  not  invented,  it  is  real." 

"  How  do  you  demonstrate  that?  "  inquired  Serlo. 

"I  will  not  demonstrate  any  thing,"  said  Wilhelm:  "I 
will  merely  show  you  what  my  own  conceptions  of  it  are." 

Aurelia  raised  herself  from  her  cushion,  leaned  upon  her 
hand,  and  looked  at  Wilhelm,  who,  with  the  firmest  assur- 
ance that  he  was  in  the  right,  went  on  as  follows :  "It  pleases 
us,  it  flatters  us,  to  see  a  hero  acting  on  his  own  strength,  lov- 
ing and  hating  at  the  bidding  of  his  heart,  undertaking  and 
completing,  casting  every  obstacle  aside,  and  attaining  some 
great  end.  Poets  and  historians  would  willingly  persuade  us 
that  so  proud  a  lot  may  fall  to  man.  In  '  Hamlet '  we  are 
taught  another  lesson  :  the  hero  is  without  a  plan,  but  the  play 
is  full  of  plan.  Here  we  have  no  villain  punished  on  some 
self-conceived  and  rigidly  accomplished  scheme  of  vengeance : 
a  horrid  deed  is  done  ;  it  rolls  along  with  all  its  consequences, 
dragging  with  it  even  the  guiltless :  the  guilty  perpetrator 
would,  as  it  seems,  evade  the  abyss  made  ready  for  him  ;  yet 
he  plunges  in,  at  the  very  point  by  which  he  thinks  he  shall 
escape,  and  happily  complete  his  course. 

' '  For  it  is  the  property  of  crime  to  extend  its  mischief 
over  innocence,  as  it  is  of  virtue  to  extend  its  blessings  over 
many  that  deserve  them  not ;  while  frequently  the  author  of 
the  one  or  of  the  other  is  not  punished  or  rewarded  at  all. 
Here  in  this  play  of  ours,  how  strange  !  The  Pit  of  darkness 
sends  its  spirit  and  demands  revenge  :  in  vain  !  All  circum- 
stances tend  one  way,  and  hurry  to  revenge  :  in  vain  !  Nei- 
ther earthly  nor  infernal  thing  may  bring  about  what  is 
reserved  for  Fate  alone.  The  hour  of  judgment  comes ;  the 
wicked  falls  with  the  good ;  one  race  is  mowed  away,  that 
another  may  spring  up. ' ' 

After  a  pause,  in  which  they  looked  at  one  another,  Serlo 
said,  "You  pay  no  great  compliment  to  Providence,  in  thus 
exalting  Shakspeare ;  and  besides,  it  appears  to  me,  that 
for  the  honor  of  your  poet,  as  others  for  the  honor  of  Provi- 
dence, you  ascribe  to  him  an  object  and  a  plan  such  as  he 
himself  had  never  thought  of." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  231 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"LET  me  also  put  a  question,"  said  Aurelia.  "I  have 
looked  at  Ophelia's  part  again  :  I  am  contented  with  it,  and 
confident,  that,  under  certain  circumstances,  I  could  play  it. 
But  tell  me,  should  not  the  poet  have  furnished  the  insane 
maiden  with  another  sort  of  songs?  Could  not  some  frag- 
ments out  of  melancholy  ballads  be  selected  for  this  purpose  ? 
Why  put  double  meanings  and  lascivious  insipidities  in  the 
mouth  of  this  noble-minded  girl?  " 

"Dear  friend,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  even  here  I  cannot  yield 
you  one  iota.  In  these  singularities,  in  this  apparent  impro- 
priety, a  deep  sense  is  hid.  Do  we  not  understand  from  the 
very  first  what  the  mind  of  the  good,  soft-hearted  girl  was 
busied  with  ?  Silently  she  lived  within  herself,  yet  she  scarce 
concealed  her  wishes,  her  longing  :  the  tones  of  desire  were  in 
secret  ringing  through  her  soul ;  and  how  often  may  she  have 
attempted,  like  an  unskilful  nurse,  to  lull  her  senses  to  repose 
with  songs  which  only  kept  them  more  awake  ?  But  at  last, 
when  her  self-command  is  altogether  gone,  when  the  secrets 
of  her  heart  are  hovering  on  her  tongue,  that  tongue  betrays 
her ;  and  in  the  innocence  of  insanity  she  solaces  herself,  un- 
mindful of  king  or  queen,  with  the  echo  of  her  loose  and 
well-beloved  songs,  — '  To-morrow  is  Saint  Valentine's  Day,' 
and  '  By  Gis  and  by  Saint  Charity.'  ' 

He  had  not  finished  speaking,  when  all  at  once  an  extraordi- 
nary scene  took  place  before  him,  which  he  could  not  in  any 
way  explain. 

Serlo  had  walked  once  or  twice  up  and  down  the  room, 
without  evincing  any  special  object.  On  a  sudden,  he  stepped 
forward  to  Aurelia's  dressing-table,  caught  hastily  at  some- 
thing that  was  lying  there,  and  hastened  to  the  door  witli  his 
booty.  No  sooner  did  Aurelia  notice  this,  than,  springing  up, 
she  threw  herself  in  his  way,  laid  hold  of  him  with  boundless 
vehemence,  and  had  dexterity  enough  to  clutch  an  end  of  the 
article  he  was  carrying  off.  They  struggled  and  wrestled 
with  great  obstinacy,  twisted  and  threw  each  other  sharply 
round ;  he  laughed ;  she  exerted  all  her  strength ;  and  as 
Wilhelm  hastened  towards  them,  to  separate  and  soothe  them, 
Aurelia  sprang  aside  with  a  naked  dagger  in  her  hand  ;  while 
Serlo  cast  the  scabbard,  which  had  staid  with  him,  angrily 
upon  the  floor.  Wilhelm  started  back  astonished ;  and  his 
dumb  wonder  seemed  to  ask  the  cause  why  so  violent  a  strife, 


282  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

about  so  strange  an  implement,  had  taken  place  between 
them. 

"  You  shall  judge  betwixt  us,"  said  the  brother.  "  What 
business  she  with  sharp  steel?  Do  but  look  at  it.  That 
dagger  is  unfit  for  any  actress,  — point  like  a  needle's,  edge 
like  a  razor's!  What  good's  the  farce?  Passionate  as  she 
is,  she  will  one  day  chance  to  do  herself  a  mischief.  I  have 
a  heart's  hatred  at  such  singularities :  a  serious  thought  of 
that  sort  is  insane,  and  so  dangerous  a  plaything  is  not  in 
taste." 

"  I  have  it  back  !  "  exclaimed  Aurelia,  and  held  the  pol- 
ished blade  aloft:  " I  will  now  keep  my  faithful  friend  more 
carefully.  Pardon  me,"  she  cried,  and  kissed  the  steel, 
"  that  1  have  so  neglected  thee." 

Serlo  was  like  to  grow  seriously  angry.  "  Take  it  as  thou 
wilt,  brother,"  she  continued  :  "how  kuowest  thou  but,  under 
this  form,  a  precious  talisman  may  have  been  given  me,  so 
that,  in  extreme  need,  I  may  find  help  and  counsel  in  it? 
Must  all  be  hurtful  that  looks  dangerous?" 

"  Such  talk  without  a  meaning  might  drive  one  mad,"  said 
Serlo,  and  left  the  room  with  suppressed  indignation.  Aurelia 
put  the  dagger  carefully  into  its  sheath,  and  placed  it  in  her 
bosom.  "  Let  us  now  resume  the  conversation  which  our 
foolish  brother  has  disturbed,"  said  she,  as  Wilhelm  was 
beginning  to  put  questions  on  the  subject  of  this  quarrel. 

"  I  must  admit  your  picture  of  Ophelia  to  be  just,"  con- 
tinued she  ;  "•  I  cannot  now  misunderstand  the  object  of  the 
poet :  I  must  pity  ;  though,  as  you  paint  her,  I  shall  rather  pity 
her  than  sympathize  with  her.  But  allow  me  here  to  offer  a 
remark,  which  in  these  few  days  you  have  frequently  sug- 
gested to  me.  I  observe  with  admiration  the  correct,  keen, 
penetrating  glance  with  which  you  judge  of  poetry,  especially 
dramatic  poetry :  the  deepest  abysses  of  invention  are  not 
hidden  frou^ou,  the  finest  touches  of  representation  cannot 
escape  you.  Without  ever  having  viewed  the  objects  in 
nature,  you  recognize  the  truth  of  their  images  :  there  seems, 
as  it  were,  a  presentiment  of  all  the  universe  to  lie  in  you, 
which  by  the  harmonious  touch  of  poetry  is  awakened  and 
unfolded.  For  in  truth,"  continued  she,  "  from  without,  you 
receive  not  much :  I  have  scarcely  seen  a  person  that  so  little 
knew,  so  totally  misknew,  the  people  he  lived  with,  as  you 
do.  Allow  me  to  say  it :  in  hearing  you  expound  the  mys- 
teries of  Shakspeare,  one  would  think  you  had  just  descended 
from  a  synod  of  the  gods,  and  had  listened  there  while  they 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  233 

were  taking  counsel  how  to  form  men  ;  in  seeing  you  transact 
with  your  fellows,  I  could  imagine  you  to  be  the  first  large- 
born  child  of  the  Creation,  standing  agape,  and  gazing  with 
strange  .wonderment  and  edifying  good  nature  at  lions  and 
apes  and  sheep  and  elephants,  and  true-heartedly  addressing 
them  as  your  equals,  simply  because  they  were  there,  and 
in  motion  like  yourself." 

"  The  feeling  of  my  ignorance  in  this  respect,"  said  Wil- 
helm,  "  often  gives  me  pain  ;  and  I  should  thank  you,  worthy 
friend,  if  you  would  help  me  to  get  a  little  better  insight 
into  life.  From  youth,  I  have  been  accustomed  to  direct  the 
eyes  of  my  spirit  inwards  rather  than  outwards  ;  and  hence 
it  is  very  natural,  that,  to  a  certain  extent,  I  should  be  ac- 
quainted with  man,  while  of  men  I  have  not  the  smallest 
knowledge." 

"In  truth,"  said  Aurelia,  "I  at  first  suspected,  that,  in 
giving  such  accounts  of  the  people  whom  you  sent  to  my 
brother,  you  meant  to  make  sport  of  us :  when  I  compared 
your  letters  with  the  merits  of  these  persons,  it  seemed  very 
strange." 

Aurelia's  remarks,  well  founded  as  they  might  be,  and 
willing  as  our  friend  was  to  confess  himself  deficient  in  this 
matter,  carried  with  them  something  painful,  nay,  offensive, 
to  him ;  so  that  he  grew  silent,  and  retired  within  himself, 
partly  to  avoid  showing  any  irritated  feeling,  partly  to 
search  his  mind  for  the  truth  or  error  of  the  charge. 

"Let  not  this  alarm  you,"  said  Aurelia:  "the  light  of 
the  understanding  it  is  always  in  our  power  to  reach,  but 
this  fulness  of  the  heart  no  one  can  give  us.  If  you  are 
destined  for  an  artist,  you  cannot  long  enough  retain  the 
dim-sightedness  and  innocence  of  which  I  speak ;  it  is  the 
beautiful  hull  upon  the  young  bud  ;  woe  to  us  if  we  are  forced 
too  soon  to  burst  it !  Surely  it  were  well,  if  we  never  knew 
what  the  people  are  for  whom  we  work  and  study. 

"  Oh !  I,  too,  was  in  that  happy  case,  when  I  first  betrod 
the  stage,  with  the  loftiest  opinion  of  myself  and  of  my 
nation.  What  a  people,  in  my  fancy,  were  the  Germans ! 
what  a  people  might  they  yet  become !  I  addressed  this 
people,  raised  above  them  by  a  little  joinery,  separated  from 
them  by  a  row  of  lamps,  whose  glancing  and  vapor  threw  an 
indistinctness  over  every  thing  before  me.  How  welcome 
was  the  tumult  of  applause  which  sounded  to  me  from  the 
crowd !  how  gratefully  did  I  accept  the  present  offered  me 
unanimously  by  so  many  hands  !  For  a  time  I  rocked  my- 


234  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

self  in  these  ideas :  I  affected  the  multitude,  and  was  again 
affected  by  them.  With  my  public  I  was  on  the  fairest  foot- 
ing :  I  imagined  that  I  felt  a  perfect  harmony  betwixt  us, 
and  that  on  each  occasion  I  beheld  before  me  the  best  and 
noblest  of  the  land. 

"Unhappily  it  was  not  the  actress  alone  that  inspired 
these  friends  of  the  stage  with  interest :  they  likewise  made 
pretensions  to  the  young  and  lively  girl.  They  gave  me  to 
understand,  in  terms  distinct  enough,  that  my  duty  was,  not 
only  to  excite  emotion  in  them,  but  to  share  it  with  them 
personally.  This,  unluckily,  was  not  my  business  :  I  wished 
to  elevate  their  minds ;  but,  to  what  they  called  their  hearts, 
I  had  not  the  slightest  claim.  Yet  now  men  of  all  ranks, 
ages,  and  characters,  by  turns  afflicted  me  with  their  ad- 
dresses ;  and  it  did  seem  hard  that  I  could  not,  like  an  hon- 
est young  woman,  shut  my  door,  and  spare  myself  such  a 
quantity  of  labor. 

"The  men  appeared,  for  most  part,  much  the  same  as 
I  had  been  accustomed  to  about  my  aunt ;  and  here  again  I 
should  have  felt  disgusted  with  them,  had  not  their  peculiari- 
ties and  insipidities  amused  me.  As  I  was  compelled  to  see 
them,  in  the  theatre,  in  open  places,  in  my  house,  I  formed 
the  project  of  spying  out  their  follies  ;  and  my  brother  helped 
me  with  alacrity  to  execute  it.  And  if  you  reflect,  that  up 
from  the  whisking  shopman  and  the  conceited  merchant's 
son,  to  the  polished,  calculating  man  of  the  world,  the  bold 
soldier,  and  the  impetuous  prince,  all  in  succession  passed  in 
review  before  me,  each  in  his  way  endeavoring  to  found  his 
small  romance,  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  conceived  that  I 
had  gained  some  acquaintance  with  my  nation. 

'"  The  fantastically  dizened  student ;  the  awkward,  humbly 
proud  man  of  letters ;  the  sleek-fed,  gouty  canon ;  the  sol- 
emn, heedful  man  of  office ;  the  heavy  country-baron ;  the 
smirking,  vapid  courtier ;  the  young,  erring  parson  ;  the  cool 
as  well  as  the  quick  and  sharply  speculating  merchant,  —  all 
these  I  have  seen  in  motion  ;  and  I  swear  to  you,  that  there 
were  few  among  them  fitted  to  inspire  me  even  with  a  senti- 
ment of  toleration :  on  the  contrary,  I  felt  it  altogether  irk- 
some to  collect,  with  tedium  and  annoyance,  the  suffrages  of 
fools  ;  to  pocket  those  applauses  in  detail,  which  in  their  ac- 
cumulated state  had  so  delighted  me,  which  in  the  gross  I  had 
appropriated  with  such  pleasure. 

"  If  I  expected  a  rational  compliment  upon  my  acting,  if 
I  hoped  that  they  would  praise  an  author  whom  I  valued, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  235 

they  were  sure  to  make  one  empty  observation  on  the  back 
of  another,  and  to  name  some  vapid  play  in  which  they 
wished  to  see  me  act.  If  I  listened  in  their  company,  to 
hear  if  some  noble,  brilliant,  witty  thought  had  met  with  a 
response  among  them,  and  would  re-appear  from  some  of 
them  in  proper  season,  it  was  rare  that  1  could  catch  an  echo 
of  it.  An  error  that  had  happened,  a  mispronunciation,  a 
provincialism  of  some  actor,  such  were  the  weighty  points 
by  which  they  held  fast,  beyond  which  the}'  could  not  pass. 
I  knew  not,  in  the  end,  to  what  hand  I  should  turn :  them- 
selves they  thought  too  clever  to  be  entertained  ;  and  me  they 
imagined  they  were  well  entertaining,  if  they  romped  and 
made  noise  enough  about  me.  I  began  very  cordially  to  de- 
spise them  all :  I  felt  as  if  the  whole  nation  had,  on  purpose, 
deputed  these  people  to  debase  it  in  my  eyes.  They 
appeared  to  me  so  clownish,  so  ill-bred,  so  wretchedly 
instructed,  so  void  of  pleasing  qualities,  so  tasteless,  I  fre- 
quently exclaimed,  "  No  German  can  buckle  his  shoes,  till 
he  has  learned  to  do  it  of  some  foreign  nation !  " 

"•  You  perceive  how  blind,  how  unjust  and  splenetic,  I  was ; 
and,  the  longer  it  lasted,  my  spleen  increased.  I  might  have 
killed  myself  with  these  things,  but  I  fell  into  the  contrary 
extreme :  I  married,  or,  rather,  let  myself  be  married.  My 
brother,  who  had  undertaken  to  conduct  the  theatre,  wished 
much  to  have  a  helper.  His  choice  lighted  on  a  young  man, 
who  was  not  offensive  to  me,  who  wanted  all  that  my  brother 
had,  — genius,  vivacity,  spirit,  and  impetuosity  of  mind  ;  but 
who  also  in  return  had  all  that  my  brother  wanted,  — love  of 
order,  diligence,  and  precious  gifts  in  housekeeping,  and  the 
management  of  money. 

"  He  became  my  husband,  I  know  not  how  :  we  lived  to- 
gether, I  do  not  well  know  why.  Suffice  it  to  say,  our  affairs 
went  prosperously  forward.  We  drew  a  large  income :  of 
this  my  brother's  activity  was  the  cause.  We  lived  with  a 
moderate  expenditure,  and  that  was  the  merit  of  my  hus- 
band. I  thought  no  more  about  world  or  nation.  With  the 
world  I  had  nothing  to  participate :  my  idea  of  the  nation 
had  faded  away.  When  I  entered  on  the  scene,  I  did  so 
that  I  might  subsist :  I  opened  my  lips  because  I  durst  not 
continue  silent,  because  I  had  come  out  to  speak. 

' '  Yet  let  me  do  the  matter  justice.  I  had  altogether  given 
myself  up  to  the  disposal  of  my  brother.  His  objects  were, 
applause  and  money ;  for,  between  ourselves,  he  has  no  dis- 
like to  hear  his  own  praises  ;  and  his  outlay  is  always  great 


236  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

I  no  longer  played  according  to  my  own  feeling,  to  my  ow. 
conviction,  but  as  he  directed  me ;  and,  if  I  did  it  to  his  sat- 
isfaction, I  was  content.  He  steered  entirely  by  the  caprices 
of  the  public.  Money  flowed  upon  us :  he  could  live  ac- 
cording to  his  humor,  and  so  we  had  good  times  with  him. 

"  Thus  had  I  fallen  into  a  dull,  handicraft  routine.  I  spun 
out  my  days  without  joy  or  sympathy.  My  marriage  was 
childless,  and  not  of  long  continuance.  My  husband  grew 
sick  ;  his  strength  was  visibly  decaying  ;  anxiety  for  him  in- 
terrupted my  general  indifference.  It  was  at  this  time  that 
I  formed  an  acquaintance  which  opened  a  new  life  forme, — 
a  new  and  quicker  one,  for  it  will  soon  be  done." 

She  kept  silence  for  a  time,  and  then  continued,  "All  at 
once  my  prattling  humor  falters :  I  have  not  the  courage  to 
go  on.  Let  me  rest  a  little.  You  shall  not  go,  till  you  have 
learned  the  whole  extent  of  my  misfortune.  Meanwhile, 
call  in  Mignon,  and  ask  her  what  she  wants." 

The  child  had  more  than  once  been  in  the  room,  while  Au- 
relia  and  our  friend  were  talking.  As  they  spoke  lower  on 
her  entrance,  she  had  glided  out  again,  and  was  now  sitting 
quietly  in  the  hall,  and  waiting.  Being  bid  return,  she 
brought  a  book  with  her,  which  its  form  and  binding  showed 
to  be  a  small  geographical  atlas.  She  had  seen  some  maps, 
for  the  first  time,  at  the  parson's  house,  with  great  astonish- 
ment ;  had  asked  him  many  questions,  and  informed  herself 
so  far  as  possible  about  them.  Her  desire  to  learn  seemed 
much  excited  by  this  new  branch  of  knowledge.  She  now 
earnestly  requested  Wilhelm  to  purchase  her  the  book  ;  say- 
ing she  had  pawned  her  large  silver  buckle  with  the  print- 
seller  for  it,  and  wished  to  have  back  the  pledge  to-morrow 
morning,  as  this  evening  it  was  late.  Her  request  was 
granted ;  and  she  then  began  repeating  several  things  she 
had  already  learned ;  at  the  same  time,  in  her  own  way,  mak- 
ing many  very  strange  inquiries.  Here  again  one  might  ob- 
serve, that,  with  a  mighty  effort,  she  could  comprehend  but 
little  and  laboriously.  So  likewise  was  it  with  her  writing,  at 
which  she  still  kept  busied.  She  yet  spoke  very  broken  Ger- 
man :  it  was  only  when  she  opened  her  mouth  to  sing,  when 
she  touched  her  cithern,  that  she  seemed  to  be  employing  an 
organ  by  which,  in  some  degree,  the  workings  of  her  mind 
could  be  disclosed  and  communicated. 

Since  we  are  at  present  on  the  subject,  we  may  also  men- 
tion the  perplexity  which  Wilhelm  had  of  late  experienced 
from  certain  parts  of  her  procedure.  When  she  came  or 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  237 

Trent,  wished  him  good-morning  or  good-night,  she  clasped 
him  so  firmly  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  him  with  such  ardor, 
that  often  the  violence  of  this  expanding  nature  gave  him 
serious  fears.  The  spasmodic  vivacity  of  her  demeanor 
seemed  daily  to  increase :  her  whole  being  moved  in  a  rest- 
less stillness.  She  would  never  be  without  some  piece  of 
packthread  to  twist  in  her  hands,  some  napkin  to  tie  in 
knots,  some  paper  or  wood  to  chew.  All  her  sports  seemed 
but  the  channels  which  drained,  off  some  inward  violent  com- 
motion. The  only  thing  that  seemed  to  cause  her  any  cheer- 
fulness was  being  near  the  boy  Felix,  with  whom  she  could 
go  on  in  a  very  dainty  manner. 

Aurelia,  after  a  little  rest,  being  now  ready  to  explain  to 
her  friend  a  matter  which  lay  very  near  her  heart,  grew  im- 
patient at  the  little  girl's  delay,  and  signified  that  she  must 
go,  — a  hint,  however,  which  the  latter  did  not  take  ;  and  at 
last,  when  nothing  else  would  do,  they  sent  her  off  expressly 
and  against  her  will. 

"  Now  or  never,"  said  Aurelia,  "  must  I  tell  you  the  re- 
mainder of  my  story.  Were  my  tenderly  beloved  and  un- 
just friend  but  a  few  miles  distant,  I  would  say  to  you, 
'  Mount  on  horseback,  seek  by  some  means  to  get  acquainted 
with  him  :  on  returning,  you  will  certainly  forgive  me,  and 
pity  me  with  all  your  heart.'  As  it  is,  I  can  only  tell  you 
with  words  how  amiable  he  was,  and  how  much  I  loved  him. 

"  It  was  at  the  critical  season,  when  care  for  the  illness  of 
my  husband  had  depressed  my  spirits,  that  I  first  became 
acquainted  with  this  stranger.  He  had  just  returned  from 
America,  where,  in  company  with  some  Frenchmen,  he  had 
served  with  much  distinction  under  the  colors  of  the  United 
States. 

"  He  addressed  me  with  an  easy  dignity,  a  frank  kindli- 
ness :  he  spoke  about  myself,  my  state,  my  acting,  like  an 
old  acquaintance,  so  affectionately  and  distinctly,  that  now 
for  the  first  time  I  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  perceiving  my 
existence  reflected  in  the  being  of  another.  His  judgments 
were  just,  though  not  severe  ;  penetrating,  yet  not  void  of 
love.  He  showed  no  harshness  :  his  pleasantry  was  cour- 
teous, with  all  his  humor.  He  seemed  accustomed  to  success 
with  women  ;  this  excited  my  attention  :  he  was  never  in  the 
least  importunate  or  flattering  ;  this  put  me  off  my  guard. 

"  In  the  town,  he  had  intercourse  with  few  :  he  was  often 
on  horseback,  visiting  his  many  friends  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  managing  the  business  of  his  house.  On  returning,  he 


238  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

would  frequently  alight  at  my  apartments ;  he  treated  my 
ever-ailing  husband  with  warm  attention ;  he  procured  him 
mitigation  of  his  sickness  by  a  good  physician.  And,  taking 
part  in  all  that  interested  me,  he  allowed  me  to  take  part  in 
all  that  interested  him.  He  told  me  the  history  of  his  cam- 
paigns :  he  spoke  of  his  invincible  attachment  to  military  life, 
of  his  family  relations,  of  his  present  business.  He  kept  no 
secret  from  me ;  he  displayed  to  me  his  inmost  thoughts, 
allowed  me  to  behold  the  most  secret  corners  of  his  soul :  I 
became  acquainted  with  his  passions  and  his  capabilities.  It 
was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  enjoyed  a  cordial,  intel- 
lectual intercourse  with  any  living  creature.  I  was  attracted 
by  him,  borne  along  by  him,  before  I  thought  about  inquir- 
ing how  it  stood  with  me. 

"  Meanwhile  I  lost  my  husband,  nearly  just  as  I  had  taken 
him.  The  burden  of  theatrical  affairs  now  fell  entirely  on 
me.  My  brother,  not  to  be  surpassed  upon  the  stage,  was 
never  good  for  any  thing  in  economical  concerns  :  I  took  the 
charge  of  all,  at  the  same  time  studying  my  parts  with 
greater  diligence  than  ever.  I  again  played  as  of  old,  — nay, 
with  new  life,  with  quite  another  force.  It  was  by  reason 
of  my  friend,  it  was  on  his  account,  that  I  did  so ;  yet  my 
success  was  not  always  best  when  I  knew  him  to  be  present. 
Once  or  twice  he  listened  to  me  unobserved,  and  how  pleas- 
antly his  unexpected  applauses  surprised  me  you  may  con- 
ceive. 

"  Certainly  I  am  a  strange  creature.  In  every  part  I 
played,  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  been  speaking  it  in  praise  of 
him ;  for  that  was  the  temper  of  my  heart,  the  words  might 
be  any  thing  they  pleased.  Did  I  understand  him  to  be 
present  in  the  audience,  I  durst  not  venture  to  speak  out 
with  all  my  force  ;  just  as  I  would  not  press  my  love  or  praise 
on  him  to  his  face  :  was  he  absent,  I  had  then  free  scope  ;  I 
did  my  best,  with  a  certain  peacefulness,  with  a  contentment 
not  to  be  described.  Applause  once  more  delighted  me ; 
and,  when  I  charmed  the  people,  I  longed  to  call  down 
among  them,  '  This  you  owe  to  him  !  ' 

"  Yes  :  my  relation  to  the  public,  to  the  nation,  had  been 
altered  by  a  wonder.  On  a  sudden  they  again  appeared  to 
me  in  the  most  favorable  light:  I  felt  astonished  at  my 
former  blindness. 

kk '  How  foolish,'  said  I  often  to  myself,  '  was  it  to  revile 
a  nation,  —  foolish,  simply  because  it  was  a  nation.  Is  it 
necessary,  is  it  possible,  that  individual  men  should  generally 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  239 

interest  us  much  ?  Not  at  all !  The  only  question  is,  whether 
in  the  great  mass  there  exists  a  sufficient  quantity  of  talent, 
force,  and  capability,  which  lucky  circumstances  may  de- 
velop, which  men  of  lofty  minds  may  direct  upon  a  commou 
object.'  I  now  rejoiced  in  discovering  so  little  prominent 
originality  among  my  countrymen  ;  I  rejoiced  that  they  dis- 
dained not  to  accept  of  guidance  from  without ;  I  rejoiced 
that  they  had  found  a  leader. 

u  Lothario,  —  allow  me  to  designate  my  friend  by  this,  his 
first  name,  which  I  loved,  —  Lothario  had  always  presented 
the  Germans  to  my  mind  on  the  side  of  valor,  and  shown 
me,  that,  when  well  commanded,  there  was  no  braver  nation 
on  the  face  of  the  earth ;  and  I  felt  ashamed  that  I  had 
never  thought  of  this,  the  first  quality  of  a  people.  History 
was  known  to  him :  he  was  in  connection  and  correspond- 
ence with  the  most  distinguished  persons  of  the  age.  Young 
as  he  was,  his  eye  was  open  to  the  budding  j-outhhood  of  his 
native  country,  to  the  silent  labors  of  active  and  busy  men  in 
so  many  provinces  of  art.  He  afforded  me  a  glimpse  of  Ger- 
many, —  what  it  was  and  what  it  might  be  ;  and  I  blushed  at 
having  formed  my  judgment  of  a  nation  from  the  motley 
crowd  that  squeeze  into  the  wardrobe  of  a  theatre.  He 
made  me  look  upon  it  as  a  duty  that  I  too,  in  my  own 
department,  should  be  true,  spirited,  enlivening.  I  now  felt 
as  if  inspired  every  time  I  stepped  upon  the  boards.  Medi- 
ocre passages  grew  golden  in  my  mouth :  had  any  poet  been 
at  hand  to  support  me  adequately,  I  might  have  produced 
the  most  astonishing  effects. 

"  So  lived  the  young  widow  for  a  series  of  months.  He 
could  not  do  without  me,  and  I  felt  exceedingly  unhappy 
when  he  staid  away.  He  showed  me  the  letters  he  received 
from  his  relations,  from  his  amiable  sister.  He  took  an 
interest  in  the  smallest  circumstance  that  concerned  me : 
more  complete,  more  intimate,  no  union  ever  was  than  ours. 
The  name  of  love  was  not  mentioned.  He  went  and  came, 
came  and  went.  And  now,  my  friend,  it  is  high  time  that 
you,  too,  should  go." 


240  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

WILHELM  could  put  off  no  longer  the  visiting  of  his  com- 
mercial friends.  He  proceeded  to  their  -place  with  some 
anxiety,  knowing  he  should  there  find  letters  from  his  people. 
He  dreaded  the  reproofs  which  these  would  of  course  con- 
tain :  it  seemed  likely  also  that  notice  had  been  given  to  his 
trading  correspondents,  concerning  the  perplexities  and  fears 
which  his  late  silence  had  occasioned.  After  such  a  series 
of  knightly  adventures,  he  recoiled  from  the  school-boy 
aspect  in  which  he  must  appear  :  he  proposed  within  his  mind 
to  act  with  an  air  of  sternness  and  defiance,  and  thus  hide 
his  embarrassment. 

To  his  great  wonder  and  contentment,  however,  all  went 
off  very  easily  and  well.  In  the  vast,  stirring,  busy  counting- 
room,  the  men  had  scarcely  time  to  seek  him  out  his  packet : 
his  delay  was  but  alluded  to  in  passing.  And  on  opening 
the  letters  of  his  father,  and  his  friend  Werner,  he  found 
them  all  of  very  innocent  contents.  His  father,  in  hopes  of 
an  extensive  journal,  the  keeping  of  which  he  had  strongly 
recommended  to  his  son  at  parting,  giving  him  also  a  tabulary 
scheme  for  that  purpose,  seemed  pretty  well  pacified  about 
the  silence  of  thfe  first  period ;  complaining  only  of  a  certain 
enigmatical  obscurity  in  the  last  and  only  letter  despatched, 
as  we  have  seen,  from  the  castle  of  the  count.  "Werner 
joked  in  his  way ;  told  merry  anecdotes,  facetious  burgh- 
news  ;  and  requested  intelligence  of  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances, whom  Wilhelm,  in  the  large  trading-city,  would  now 
meet  with  in  great  numbers.  Our  friend,  extremely  pleased 
at  getting  off  so  well,  answered  without  loss  of  a  moment,  in 
some  very  cheerful  letters ;  promising  his  father  a  copious 
journal  of  his  travels,  with  all  the  required  geographical, 
statistical,  and  mercantile  remarks.  He  had  seen  much  on 
his  journey,  he  said,  and  hoped  to  make  a  tolerably  large 
manuscript  out  of  these  materials.  He  did  not  observe  that 
he  was  almost  in  the  same  case  as  he  had  once  experienced 
before,  -when  he  assembled  an  audience  and  lit  his  lamps 
to  represent  a  play  which  was  not  written,  still  less  got  by 
heart.  Accordingly,  so  soon  as  he  commenced  the  actual 
work  of  composition,  he  became  aware  that  he  had  much  to 
say  about  emotions  and  thoughts,  and  many  experiences  of 
the  heart  and  spirit,  but  not  a  word  concerning  outward 
objects,  on  which,  as  lie  now  discovered,  he  had  not  bestowed 
the  least  attention. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  241 

In  this  embarrassment,  the  acquisitions  of  his  friend 
Laertes  came  very  seasonably  to  his  aid.  Custom  had 
united  these  young  people,  unlike  one  another  as  they 
were ;  and  Laertes,  with  all  his  failings  and  singularities, 
was  actually  an  interesting  man.  Endowed  with  warm  and 
pleasurable  senses,  he  might  have  reached  old  age  Without 
reflecting  for  a  moment  on  his  situation.  But  his  ill- fortune 
and  his  sickness  had  robbed  him  of  the  pure  feelings  of 
youth,  and  opened  for  him  instead  of  it  a  view  into  the 
transitoriness,  the  discontinuity,  of  man's  existence.  Hence 
had  arisen  a  humorous,  flighty,  rhapsodical  way  of  thinking 
about  all  things,  or,  rather,  of  uttering  the  immediate  impres- 
sions they  produced  on  him.  He  did  not  like  to  be  alone  ; 
he  strolled  about  all  the  coffee-houses  and  tables-d' hdte ;  and, 
when  he  did  stay  at  home,  books  of  travels  were  his  favorite, 
nay,  his  only,  kind  of  reading.  Having  lately  found  a  large 
circulating  library,  he  had  been  enabled  to  content  his  taste 
in  this  respect  to  the  full ;  and  erelong  half  the  world  was 
figuring  in  his  faithful  memory. 

It  was  easy  for  him,  therefore,  to  speak  comfort  to  his 
friend,  when  the  latter  had  disclosed  his  utter  lack  of  matter 
for  the  narrative  so  solemnly  promised  by  him.  "  Now  is  the 
time  for  a  stroke  of  art,"  said  Laertes,  "  that  shall  have  no 
fellow !  , 

"  Has  not  Germany  been  travelled  over,  cruised  over, 
walked,  crept,  and  flown  over,  repeatedly  from  end  to  end? 
And  has  not  every  German  traveller  the  royal  privilege  of 
drawing  from  the  public  a  repayment  of  the  great  or  small 
expenses  he  may  have  incurred  while  travelling?  Give  me 
your  route  previous  to  our  meeting  :  the  rest  I  know  already. 
I  will  find  you  helps  and  sources  of  information :  of  miles 
that  were  never  measured,  populations  that  were  never 
counted,  we  shall  give  them  plenty.  The  revenues  of 
provinces  we  will  take  from  almanacs  and  tables,  which,  as 
all  men  know,  are  the  most  authentic  documents.  On  these 
we  will  ground  our  political  discussions :  we  shall  not  fail  in 
side-glances  at  the  ruling  powers.  One  or  two  princes  we 
will  paint  as  true  fathers  of  their  country,  that  we  may 
gain  more  ready  credence  in  our  allegations  against  others. 
If  we  do  not  travel  through  the  residence  of  any  noted  man, 
we  shall  take  care  to  meet  such  persons  at  the  inn,  and  make 
them  utter  the  most  foolish  stuff  to  us.  Particularly,  let  us 
not  forget  to  insert,  with  all  its  graces  and  sentiments,  some 
love-story  with  a  pastoral  bar- maid.  I  tell  you,  it  shall  be  a 


242  MEISTER'S    APPRENTICESHIP. 

composition  which  will  not  only  fill  father  and  mother  with 
delight,  but  which  booksellers  themselves  shall  gladly  pay 
you  current  money  for." 

They  went  accordingly  to  work,  and  both  of  them  found 
pleasure  in  their  labor.  Wilhelm,  in  the  mean  time,  frequent- 
ing the  play  at  night,  and  conversing  with  Serlo  and  Aurelia 
by  day,  experienced  the  greatest  satisfaction,  and  was  daily 
more  and  more  expanding  his  ideas,  which  had  been  too  long 
revolving  in  the  same  narrow  circle. 


CHAPTER  XVIH. 

IT  was  not  without  deep  interest  that  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  Serlo' s  career.  Piecemeal  he  learned  it ; 
for  it  was  not  the  fashion  of  that  extraordinary  man  to  be 
confidential,  or  to  speak  of  any  thing  connectively.  He  had 
been,  one  may  say,  born  and  suckled  in  the  theatre.  While 
yet  literally  an  infant,  he  had  been  produced  upon  the  stage 
to  move  spectators,  merely  by  his  presence  ;  for  authors  even 
then  were  acquainted  with  this  natural  and  very  guiltless 
mode  of  doing  so.  Thus  his  first  "  Father !  "  or  "  Mother !  " 
in  favorite  pieces,  procured  him  approbation,  before  he  un- 
derstood what  was  meant  by  that  clapping  of  the  hands.  In 
the  character  of  Cupid,  he  more  than  once  descended,  with 
terror,  in  his  flying-gear ;  as  harlequin,  he  used  to  issue  from 
the  egg  ;  and,  as  a  little  chimney-sweep,  to  play  the  sharpest 
tricks. 

Unhappily,  the  plaudits  of  these  glancing  nights  were  too 
bitterly  repaid  by  sufferings  in  the  intervening  seasons.  His 
father  was  persuaded  that  the  minds  of  children  could  be 
kept  awake  and  steadfast  by  no  other  means  than  blows : 
hence,  in  the  studying  of  any  part,  he  used  to  thrash  him  at 
stated  periods,  not  because  the  boy  was  awkward,  but  that 
he  might  become  more  certainly  and  constantly  expert.  It 
was  thus  that  in  former  times,  while  putting  down  a  land- 
mark, people  were  accustomed  to  bestow  a  hearty  drubbing 
on  the  children  who  had  followed  them  ;  and  these,  it  was 
supposed,  would  recollect  the  place  exactly  to  the  latest  clay 
of  their  lives.  Serlo  waxed  in  stature,  and  showed  the 
finest  capabilities  of  spirit  and  of  body,  —  in  particular,  an 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  243 

admirable  pliancy  at  once  in  his  thoughts,  looks,  movements, 
and  gestures.  His  gift  Of  imitation  was  beyond  belief. 
When  still  a  boy,  he  could  mimic  persons,  so  that  you  would 
think  you  saw  them  ;  though  in  form,  age,  and  disposition, 
they  might  be  entirely  unlike  him,  and  unlike  each  other. 
Nor  with  all  this,  did  he  want  the  knack  of  suiting  himself 
to  his  circumstances,  and  picking  out  his  way  in  life.  Ac- 
cordingly, so  soon  as  he  had  grown  in  some  degree  acquainted 
with  his  strength,  he  very  naturally  eloped  from  his  father, 
who,  as  the  boy's  understanding  and  dexterity  increased, 
still  thought  it  needful  to  forward  their  perfection  by  the 
harshest  treatment. 

Happy  was  the  wild  boy,  now  roaming  free  about  the  world, 
where  his  feats  of  waggery  never  failed  to  secure  him  a  good 
reception.  His  lucky  star  first  led  him  in  the  Christmas  season 
to  a  cloister,  where  the  friar,  whose  business  it  had  been  to 
arrange  processions,  and  to  entertain  the  Christian  community 
by  spiritual  masquerades,  having  just  died,  Serlo  was  wel- 
comed as  a  helping  angel.  On  the  instant  he  took  up  the 
part  of  Gabriel  in  the  Annnnication,  and  did  not  by  any 
means  displease  the  prett}'  girl,  who,  acting  the  Virgin,  very 
gracefully  received  his  most  obliging  kiss,  with  external 
humility  and  inward  pride.  In  their  Mysteries,  he  continued 
to  perform  the  most  important  parts,  and  thought  himself 
no  slender  personage,  when  at  last,  in  the  character  of  Mar- 
tyr, he  was  mocked  of  the  world,  and  beaten,  and  fixed  upon 
the  cross. 

Some  pagan  soldiers  had,  on  this  occasion,  played  their 
parts  a  little  too  naturally.  To  be  avenged  on  these  heathen 
in  the  proper  style,  he  took  care  at  the  Day  of  Judgment  to 
have  them  decked  out  in  gaudy  clothes  as  emperors  and  kings  ; 
and  at  that  moment  when  they,  exceedingly  contented  with 
their  situation,  were  about  to  take  precedence  of  the  rest  in 
heaven,  as  they  had  done  on  earth,  he,  on  a  sudden,  rushed 
upon  them  in  the  shape  of  the  Devil ;  and  to  the  cordial  edi- 
fication of  all  the  beggars  and  spectators,  having  thoroughly 
curried  them  with  his  oven-fork,  he  pushed  them  without 
mercy  back  into  the  chasm,  where,  in  the  midst  of  waving 
flame,  they  met  with  the  sorriest  welcome. 

He  was  acute  enough,  however,  to  perceive  that  these 
crowned  heads  might  feel  offended  at  such  bold  procedure, 
and  perhaps  forget  the  reverence  due  to  his  privileged  office 
of  Accuser  and  Turnkey.  So  in  all  silence,  before  the 
Millennium  commenced,  he  withdrew,  and  betook  him  to  a 


244  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

neighboring  town.  Here  a  society  of  persons,  denominated 
Children  of  Joy,  received  him  with  open  arms.  They  were 
a  set  of  clever,  strong-headed,  lively  geniuses,  who  saw  well 
enough  that  the  sum  of  our  existence,  divided  by  reason, 
never  gives  an  integer  number,  but  that  a  surprising  fraction 
is  always  left  behind.  At  stated  times,  to  get  rid  of  this 
fraction,  which  impedes,  and,  if  it  is  diffused  over  all  the 
mass  of  our  conduct,  endangers  us,  was  the  object  of  the 
Children  of  Joy.  For  one  day  a  week  each  of  them  in  suc- 
cession was  a  fool  on  purpose ;  and,  during  this,  he  in  his 
turn  exhibited  to  ridicule,  in  allegorical  representations,  what- 
ever folly  he  had  noticed  in  himself,  or  the  rest,  throughout 
the  other  six.  This  practice  might  be  somewhat  ruder  than 
that  constant  training,  in  the  course  of  which  a  man  of  ordi- 
nary morals  is  accustomed  to  observe,  to  warn,  to  punish, 
himself  daily  ;  but  it  was  also  merrier  and  surer.  For  as  no 
Child  of  Joy  concealed  his  bosom-folly,  so  he  and  those 
about  him  held  it  for  simply  what  it  was  ;  whereas,  on  the  other 
plan,  by  the  help  of  self-deception,  this  same  bosom-folly 
often  gains  the  head  authority  within,  and  binds  down  reason 
to  a  secret  servitude,  at  the  very  time  when  reason  fondly 
hopes  that  she  has  long  since  chased  it  out  of  doors.  The 
mask  of  folly  circulated  round  in  this  society ;  and  each 
member  was  allowed,  in  his  particular  day,  to  decorate  and 
characterize  it  with  his  own  attributes  or  those  of  others. 
At  the  time  of  Carnival,  they  assumed  the  greatest  freedom, 
vying  with  the  clergy  in  attempts  to  instruct  and  entertain 
the  multitude.  Their  solemn  figurative  processions  of  Virtues 
and  Vices,  Arts  and  Sciences,  Quarters  of  the  World,  and 
•Seasons  of  the  Year,  bodied  forth  a  number  of  conceptions, 
and  gave  images  of  man}-  distant  objects  to  the  people,  and 
hence  were  not  without  their  use  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  mummeries  of  the  priesthood  tended  but  to  strengthen  a 
tasteless  superstition,  already  strong  enough. 

Here  again  young  Serlo  was  altogether  in  his  element.  In- 
vention in  its  strictest  sense,  it  is  true,  he  had  not ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  had  the  most  consummate  skill  in  employ- 
ing what  he  found  before  him,  iu  ordering  it,  and  shadowing 
it  forth.  His  roguish  turns,  his  gift  of  mimicry ;  his  biting 
wit,  which  at  least  one  day  weekly  he  might  use  with  entire 
freedom,  even  against  his  benefactors,  —  made  him  precious, 
or  rather  indispensable,  to  the  whole  society. 

Yet  his  restless  mind  soon  drove  him  from  this  favorable 
scene  to  other  quarters  of  his  country,  where  other  means 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  245 

of  instruction  awaited  him.  He  came  into  the  polished,  but 
also  barren,  part  of  Germany,  where,  in  worshipping  the 
good  and  the  beautiful,  there  is  indeed  no  want  of  truth,  but 
frequently  a  grievous  want  of  spirit.  His  masks  would  here 
do  nothing  for  him :  he  had  now  to  aim  at  working  on  the 
heart  and  mind.  For  short  periods,  he  attached  himself  to 
small  or  to  extensive  companies  of  actors,  and  marked,  on 
these  occasions,  what  were  the  distinctive  properties,  both 
of  the  pieces  and  the  players.  The  monotony  which  then^ 
reigned  on  the  German  theatre,  the  mawkish  sound  and 
cadence  of  their  Alexandrines,  the  flat  and  yet  distorted 
dialogue,  the  shallowness  and  commonness  of  these  undis- 
guised preachers  of  morality,  he  was  not  long  in  compre- 
hending, or  in  seizing,  at  the  same  time,  what  little  there 
was  that  moved  and  pleased. 

Not  only  single  parts  in  the  curreut  pieces,  but  the  pieces 
themselves,  remained  easily  and  wholly  in  his  memory,  and, 
along  with  them,  the  special  tone  of  any  player  who  had  rep- 
resented them  with  approbation.  At  length,  in  the  course 
of  his  rambles,  his  money  being  altogether  doue,  the  project 
struck  him  of  acting  entire  pieces  by  himself,  especially  in 
villages  and  noblemen's  houses,  and  thus  in  all  places  mak- 
ing sure  at  least  of  entertainment  and  lodging.  In  any  tavern, 
any  room,  or  any  garden,  he  would  accordingly  at  once  set 
up  his  theatre :  with  a  roguish  seriousness  and  a  show  of 
enthusiasm,  he  would  contrive  to  gain  the  imaginations  of  his 
audience,  to  deceive  their  senses,  and  before  their  eyes  to 
make  an  old  press  into  a  tower,  or  a  fan  into  a  dagger.  His 
youthful  warmth  supplied  the  place  of  deep  feeling :  his 
vehemence  seemed  strength,  and  his  flattery  tenderness. 
Such  of  the  spectators  as  already  knew  a  theatre,  he  put  in 
mind  of  all  that  they  had  seen  and  heard :  in  the  rest  he 
awakened  a  presentiment  of  something  wonderful,  and  a 
wish  to  be  more  acquainted  with  it.  What  produced  an  effect 
in  one  place  he  did  not  fail  to  repeat  in  others  ;  and  his  mind 
overflowed  with  a  wicked  pleasure  when,  by  the  same  means, 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  he  could  make  gulls  of  all  the 
world. 

His  spirit  was  lively,  brisk,  and  unimpeded  :  by  frequently 
repeating  parts  and  pieces,  he  improved  very  fast.  Erelong 
he  could  recite  and  play  with  more  conformity  to  the  sense 
than  the  models  whom  he  had  at  first  imitated.  Proceeding 
thus,  he  arrived  by  degrees  at  playing  naturally ;  though  he 
did  not  cease  to  feign.  He  seemed  transported,  yet  he  lay 


246  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

in  wait  for  the  effect ;  and  his  greatest  pride  was  in  moving, 
by  successive  touches,  the  passions  of  men.  The  mad  trade 
he  drove  did  itself  soon  force  him  to  proceed  with  a  certain 
moderation  ;  and  thus,  partly  by  constraint,  partly  by  in- 
stinct, he  learned  the  art  of  which  so  few  players  seemed  to 
have  a  notion,  —  the  art  of  being  f rugal  in  the  use  of  voice 
and  gestures. 

Thus  did  he  contrive  to  tame,  and  to  inspire  with  interest 
for  him,  even  rude  and  unfriendly  men.  Being  always  con- 
tented with  food  and  shelter ;  thankfully  accepting  presents  of 
any  kind  as  readily  as  money,  which  latter,  when  he  reckoned 
that  he  had  enough  of  it,  he  frequently  declined,  —  he  be- 
came a  general  favorite,  was  sent  about  from  one  to  another 
with  recommendatory  letters ;  and  thus  he  wandered  many 
a  day  from  castle  to  castle,  exciting  much  festivity,  enjoying 
much,  and  meeting  in  his  travels  with  the  most  agreeable  and 
curious  adventures. 

With  such  inward  coldness  of  temper,  he  could  not  prop- 
erly be  said  to  love  any  one  ;  with  such  clearness  of  vision, 
he  could  respect  no  one  ;  in  fact,  he  never  looked  beyond  the 
external  peculiarities  of  men ;  and  he  merely  carried  their 
characters  in  his  mimical  collection.  Yet  withal,  his  selfish- 
ness was  keenly  wounded  if  he  did  not  please  every  one  and 
call  forth  universal  applause.  How  this  might  be  attained, 
he  had  studied  in  the  course  of  time  so  accurately,  and  so 
sharpened  his  sense  of  the  matter,  that  not  only  on  the  stage, 
but  also  in  common  life,  he  no  longer  could  do  otherwise 
than  flatter  and  deceive.  And  thus  did  his  disposition,  his 
talent,  and  his  way  of  life,  work  reciprocally  on  each  other, 
till  by  this  means  he  had  imperceptibly  been  formed  into  a 
perfect  actor.  Nay,  by  a  mode  of  action  and  re-action,  which 
is  quite  natural,  though  it  seems  paradoxical,  his  recitation, 
declamation,  and  gesture  improved,  by  critical  discernment 
and  practice,  to  a  high  degree  of  truth,  ease,  aud  frankness ; 
while,  in  his  life  and  intercourse  with  men,  he  seemed  to  grow 
continually  more  secret,  artful,  or  even  hypocritical  and  con- 
strained. 

Of  his  fortunes  and  adventures  we  perhaps  shall  speak 
in  another  place :  it  is  enough  to  remark  at  present,  that  in 
later  times,  when  he  had  become  a  man  of  circumstance,  in 
possession  of  a  distinct  reputation,  and  of  a  very  good,  though 
not  entirely  secure,  employment  and  rank,  he  was  wont,  in 
conversation,  partly  in  the  way  of  irony,  partly  of  mockery, 
in  a  delicate  style,  to  act  the  sophist,  aud  thus  to  destroy 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  247 

almost  all  serious  discussion.  This  kind  of  speech  he  seemed 
peculiarly  fond  of  using  towards  Wilhelm,  particularly  when 
the  latter  took  a  fancy,  as  often  happened,  for  introducing 
any  of  his  general  and  theoretical  disquisitions.  Yet  still 
they  liked  well  to  be  together :  with  such  different  modes  of 
thinking,  the  conversation  could  not  fail  to  be  lively.  Wil- 
helm always  wished  to  deduce  every  thing  from  abstract  ideas 
which  he  had  arrived  at :  he  wanted  to  have  art  viewed  in 
all  its  connections  as  a  whole.  He  wanted  to  promulgate  and 
fix  down  universal  laws  ;  to  settle  what  was  right,  beautiful, 
and  good :  in  short,  he  treated  all  things  in  a  serious  manner. 
Serlo,  on  the  other  hand,  took  up  the  matter  very  lightly : 
never  answering  directly  to  au}r  question,  he  would  contrive, 
by  some  anecdote  or  laughable  turn,  to  give  the  finest  and 
most  satisfactory  illustrations,  and  thus  to  instruct  his  audi- 
ence while  he  made  them  merry. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WHILE  our  friend  was  in  this  way  living  very  happily,  Me- 
lina  and  the  rest  were  in  quite  a  different  case.  Wilhelm  they 
haunted  like  evil  spirits  ;  and  not  only  by  their  presence,  but 
frequently  by  rueful  faces  and  bitter  words,  they  caused  him 
many  a  sorry  moment.  Serlo  had  not  admitted  them  to  the 
most  trifling  part,  far  less  held  out  to  them  any  hope  of  a  per- 
manent engagement ;  and  yet  he  had  contrived,  by  degrees, 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  capabilities  of  every  one  of  them. 
Whenever  any  actors  were  assembled  in  leisure  hours  about 
him,  he  was  wont  to  make  them  read,  and  frequently  to  read 
along  with  them.  On  such  occasions  he  took  plays  which 
were  by  and  by  to  be  acted,  which  for  a  long  time  had  re- 
mained unacted  ;  and  generally  by  portions.  In  like  manner, 
after  any  first  representation,  he  caused  such  passages  to  be 
repeated  as  he  had  any  thing  to  say  upon  :  by  which  means 
he  sharpened  the  discernment  of  his  actors,  and  strengthened 
their  certainty  of  hitting  the  proper  point.  And  as  a  person 
of  slender  but  correct  understanding  may  produce  more 
agreeable  effect  on  others  than  a  perplexed  and  unpurified 
genius,  he  would  frequently  exalt  men  of  mediocre  talents, 
by  the  clear  views  which  he  imperceptibly  afforded  them,  to  a 


248  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

wonderful  extent  of  power.  Nor  was  it  an  unimportant  item 
in  his  scheme,  that  he  likewise  had  poems  read  before  him  in 
their  meetings  ;  for  by  these  he  nourished  in  his  people  1.he 
feeling  of  that  charm  which  a  well-pronounced  rhythm  is  cal- 
culated to  awaken  in  the  soul :  whereas,  in  other  companies, 
those  prose  compositions  were  already  getting  introduced  for 
which  any  tyro  was  adequate. 

On  occasions  such  as  these,  he  had  contrived  to  make  him- 
self acquainted  with  the  new-come  players :  he  had  decided 
what  they  were,  and  what  they  might  be,  and  silently  made 
up  his  mind  to  take  advantage  of  their  talents,  in  a  revolu- 
tion which  was  now  threatening  his  own  company.  For  a 
while  he  let  the  matter  rest ;  declined  every  one  of  Wilhelm's 
intercessions  for  his  comrades,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders ; 
till  at  last  he  saw  his  time,  and  altogether  unexpectedly  made 
the  proposal  to  our  friend,  "  that  he  himself  should  come 
upon  the  stage  ;  that,  on  this  condition,  the  others,  too,  might 
be  admitted." 

"  These  people  must  not  be  so  useless  as  you  formerly  de- 
scribed them,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  if  they  can  now  be  all 
received  at  once ;  and  I  suppose  their  talents  would  remain 
the  same  without  me  as  with  me." 

Under  seal  of  secrecy,  Serlo  hereupon  explained  his  situa- 
tion,—  how  his  first  actor  was  giving  hints  about  a  rise  of 
salary  at  the  renewal  of  their  contract ;  how  he  himself  did 
not  incline  conceding  this,  the  rather  as  the  individual  in  ques- 
tion was  no  longer  in  such  favor  with  the  public  ;  how,  if  he 
dismissed  him,  a  whole  train  would  follow ;  whereby,  it  was 
true,  his  company  would  lose  some  good,  but  likewise  some 
indifferent,  actors.  He  then  showed  Wilhelm  what  he  hoped 
to  gain  in  him,  in  Laertes,  Old  Boisterous,  and  even  Frau 
Melina.  Nay,  he  promised  to  procure  for  the  silly  Pedant 
himself,  in  the  character  of  Jew,  minister,  but  chiefly  of 
villain,  a  decided  approbation. 

Wilhelm  faltered  ;  the  proposal  fluttered  him  ;  he  knew  not 
what  to  say.  That  he  might  say  something,  he  rejoined, 
with  a  deep-drawn  breath,  "You  speak  very  graciously 
about  the  good  you  find  and  hope  to  find  in  us  ;  but  how  is  it 
with  our  weak  points,  which  certainly  have  not  escaped  your 
penetration  ? ' ' 

"These,"  said  Serlo,  "by  diligence,  practice,  and  reflec- 
tion, we  shall  soon  make  strong  points.  Though  you  are  yet 
but  freshmen  and  bunglers,  there  is  not  one  among  you  that 
does  not  warrant  expectation  more  or  less :  for,  so  far  as  I 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  249 

can  judge,  no  stick,  properly  so  called,  is  to  be  met  with  in 
the  company ;  and  your  stick  is  the  only  person  that  can 
never  be  improved,  never  bent  or  guided,  whether  it  be  self- 
conceit,  stupidity,  or  hypochondria,  that  renders  him  un- 
pliant." 

The  manager  next  stated,  in  a  few  words,  the  terms  he 
meant  to  offer ;  requested  Wilhelm  to  determine  soon,  and 
left  him  in  no  small  perplexity. 

In  the  marvellous  composition  of  those  travels,  which  he 
had  at  first  engaged  with,  as  it  were,  in  jest,  and  was  now 
carrying  on  in  conjunction  with  Laertes,  his  mind  had  by 
degrees  grown  more  attentive  to  the  circumstances  and  the 
every-day  life  of  the  actual  world  than  it  was  wont.  He 
now  first  understood  the  object  of  his  father  in  so  earnestly 
recommending  him  to  keep  a  journal.  He  now,  for  the  first 
time,  felt  how  pleasant  and  how  useful  it  might  be  to  become 
participator  in  so  many  trades  and  requisitions,  and  to  take 
a  hand  in  diffusing  activity  and  life  into  the  deepest  nooks 
of  the  mountains  and  forests  of  Europe.  The  busy  trading- 
town  in  which  he  was ;  the  unrest  of  Laertes,  who  dragged 
him  about  to  examine  every  thing,  —  afforded  him  the  most 
impressive  image  of  a  mighty  centre,  from  which  every  thing 
was  flowing  out,  to  which  every  thing  was  coming  back  ;  and 
it  was  the  first  time  that  his  spirit,  in  contemplating  this 
species  of  activity,  had  really  felt  delight.  At  such  a  junc- 
ture Serlo's  offer  had  been  made  him  ;  had  again  awakened 
his  desires,  his  tendencies,  his  faith  in  a  natural  talent,  and 
again  brought  into  mind  his  solemn  obligation  to  his  helpless 
comrades. 

"•  Here  standest  thou  once  more,"  said  he  within  himself, 
"  at  the  Parting  of  the  Ways,  between  the  two  women  who 
appeared  before  thee  in  thy  youth.  The  one  no  longer  looks 
so  pitiful  as  then,  nor  does  the  other  look  so  glorious.  To 
obey  the  one,  or  to  obey  the  other,  thou  art  not  without  a 
kind  of  inward  calling :  outward  reasons  are  on  both  sides 
strong  enough,  and  to  decide  appears  to  thee  impossible. 
Thou  wishest  some  preponderancy  from  without  would  fix 
thy  choice  ;  and  yet,  if  thou  consider  well,  it  is  external  cir- 
cumstances only  that  inspire  thee  with  a  wish  to  trade,  to 
gather,  to  possess  ;  whilst  it  is  thy  inmost  want  that  has 
created,  that  has  nourished,  the  desire  still  further  to  unfold 
and  perfect  what  endowments  soever  for  the  beautiful  and 
good,  be  they  mental  or  bodily,  may  lie  within  thee.  And 
ought  I  not  to  honor  Fate,  which,  without  furtherance  of 


250  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

miue,  has  led  me  hither  to  the  goal  of  all  my  wishes?  Has 
not  all  that  I,  in  old  times,  meditated  and  forecast,  now  hap- 
pened accidentally,  and  without  my  co-operation?  Singular 
enough  !  We  seem  to  be  so  intimate  with  nothing  as  we  are 
with  our  own  wishes  and  hopes,  which  have  long  been  kept 
and  cherished  in  our  hearts ;  yet  when  they  meet  us,  when 
they,  as  it  were,  press  forward  to  us,  then  we  know  them  not, 
then  we  recoil  from  them.  All  that,  since  the  hapless  night 
which  severed  me  from  Mariana,  I  have  but  allowed  myself 
to  dream,  now  stands  before  me,  entreating  my  acceptance. 
Hither  I  intended  to  escape  by  flight ;  hither  I  am  softly 
guided :  with  Serlo  I  meant  to  seek  a  place ;  he  now  seeks 
me,  and  offers  me  conditions,  which,  as  a  beginner,  I  could 
not  have  looked  for.  Was  it,  then,  mere  love  to  Mariana 
that  bound  me  to  the  stage  ?  Or  love  to  art  that  bound  me  to 
her?  Was  that  prospect,  that  outlet,  which  the  theatre  pre- 
sented me,  nothing  but  the  project  of  a  restless,  disorderly, 
and  disobedient  boy,  wishing  to  lead  a  life  which  the  customs 
of  the  civic  world  would  not  admit  of  ?  Or  was  all  this  differ- 
ent, worthier,  purer?  If  so,  what  moved  thee  to  alter  the 
persuasions  of  that  period?  Hast  thou  not  hitherto,  even 
without  knowing  it,  pursued  thy  plan  ?  Is  not  the  concluding 
step  still  further  to  be  justified,  now  that  no  side-purposes 
combine  with  it ;  now  that  in  making  it  thou  mayest  fulfil  a 
solemn  promise,  and  nobly  free  thyself  from  a  heavy  debt?  " 
All  that  could  affect  his  heart  and  his  imagination  was 
now  moving,  and  conflicting  in  the  liveliest  strife  within  him. 
The  thought  that  he  might  retain  Miguon,  that  he  should  not 
need  to  put  away  the  harper,  was  not  an  inconsiderable  item 
in  the  balance,  which,  however,  had  not  ceased  to  waver  to 
the  one  and  to  the  other  side,  when  he  went,  as  he  was  wont, 
to  see  his  friend  Aurelia. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SHE  was  lying  on  the  sofa :  she  seemed  quiet.  "  Do  you 
think  you  will  be  fit  to  act  to-morrow?  "  he  inquired.  "Oh, 
yes  !  "  cried  she  with  vivacity :  "  you  know  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  me.  If  I  but  knew  a  way,"  continued  she,  "  to 
rid  myself  of  those  applauses !  The  people  mean  it  well, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  251 

but  they  will  kill  me.  Last  night  I  thought  my  very  heart 
would  break !  Once,  when  I  used  to  please  myself,  I  could 
endure  this  gladly :  when  I  had  studied  long,  and  well  pre- 
pared myself,  it  gave  me  joy  to  hear  the  sound,  '  It  has 
succeeded ! '  pealing  back  to  me  from  every  corner.  But 
now  I  speak  not  what  I  like,  nor  as  I  like;  I  am  swept 
along,  I  get  confused,  I  scarce  know  what  I  do  ;  and  the  im- 
pression I  make  is  far  deeper.  The  applause  grows  louder ; 
and  I  think,  Did  you  but  know  what  charms  you !  These 
dark,  vague,  vehement  tones  of  passion  move  you,  force  you 
to  admire  ;  and  you  feel  not  that  the}'  are  the  cries  of  agony, 
wrung  from  the  miserable  being  whom  you  praise. 

"  I  learned  my  part  this  morning:  just  now  I  have  been 
repeating  it  and  trying  it.  I  am  tired,  broken  down ;  and 
to-morrow  I  must  do  the  same.  To-morrow  evening  is  the 
play.  Thus  do  I  drag  myself  to  and  fro  :  it  is  wearisome  to 
rise,  it  is  wearisome  to  go  to  bed.  All  moves  within  me  in 
an  everlasting  circle.  Then  come  their  dreary  consolations, 
and  present  themselves  before  me  ;  and  I  cast  them  out,  and 
execrate  them.  I  will  not  surrender,  not  surrender  to  neces- 
sity :  why  should  that  be  necessary  which  crushes  me  to  the 
dust?  Might  it  not  be  otherwise?  I  am  paying  the  penalty 
of  being  born  a  German :  it  is  the  nature  of  the  Germans, 
that  they  bear  heavily  on  every  thing,  that  every  thing  bears 
heavily  on  them." 

"  O  my  friend  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  "could .you  cease  to  whet 
the  dagger  wherewith  you  are  ever  wounding  me !  Does 
nothing,  then,  remain  for  you?  Are  your  youth,  your  form, 
your  health,  your  talents,  nothing?  Having  lost  one  bless- 
ing, without  blame  of  yours,  must  you  throw  all  the  others 
after  it  ?  Is  that  also  necessary  ? ' ' 

She  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  burst  forth, 
"  I  know  well,  it  is  a  waste  of  time,  nothing  but  a  waste  of 
time,  this  love  !  What  might  not,  should  not,  I  have  done  ! 
And  now  it  is  all  vanished  into  air.  I  am  a  poor,  wretched, 
lovelorn  creature,  —  lovelorn,  that  is  all !  Oh,  have  compas- 
sion on  me  !  God  knows  I  am  poor  and  wretched  !  " 

She  sank  in  thought:  then,  after  a  brief  pause,  she  ex- 
claimed with  violence,  "  You  are  accustomed  to  have  all 
things  fly  into  your  arms.  No :  you  cannot  feel,  no  man 
is  qualified  to  feel,  the  worth  of  a  woman  that  can  reverence 
herself.  By  all  the  holy  angels,  by  all  the  images  of  bless- 
edness, which  a  pure  and  kindly  heart  creates,  there  is  not 
any  thing  more  heavenly  than  the  soul  of  a  woman  giving 
herself  to  the  man  she  loves ! 


252  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"We  are  cold,  proud,  high,  clear-sighted,  wise,  while  we 
deserve  the  name  of  women ;  and  all  these  qualities  we  lay 
down  at  your  feet,  the  instant  that  we  love,  that  we  hope  to 
excite  a  return  of  love.  Oh,  how  have  I  cast  away  ray  whole 
existence  wittingly  and  willingly !  But  now  will  I  despair, 
purposely  despair.  There  is  no  drop  of  blood  within  me  but 
shall  suffer,  no  fibre  that  I  will  not  punish.  Smile,  I  pray 
you  ;  laugh  at  this  theatrical  display  of  passion." 

Wilhelm  was  far  enough  from  any  tendency  to  laugh. 
This  horrible,  half -natural,  half -factitious  condition  of  his 
friend  afflicted  him  but  too  deeply.  He  sympathized  in  the 
tortures  of  that  racking  misery :  his  thoughts  were  wan- 
dering in  painful  perplexities,  his  blood  was  in  a  feverish 
tumult. 

She  had  risen,  and  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 
"I  see  before  me,"  she  exclaimed,  "all  manner  of  reasons 
why  I  should  not  love  him.  I  know  he  is  not  worthy  of  it ; 
I  turn  my  mind  aside,  this  way  and  that ;  I  seize  upon  what- 
ever business  I  can  find.  At  one  time  I  take  up  a  part, 
though  I  have  not  to  play  it ;  at  another,  I  begin  to  practise 
old  ones,  though  I  know  them  through  and  through ;  I  prac- 
tise them  more  diligently,  more  minutely,  —  I  toil  and  toil  at 
them.  My  friend,  my  confidant,  what  a  horrid  task  is  it  to 
tear  away  one's  thoughts  from  one's  self !  My  reason  suf- 
fers, my  brain  is  racked  and  strained :  to  save  myself  from 
madness,  I  again  admit  the  feeling  that  I  love  him.  Yes,  I 
love  him,  I  love  him!  "  cried  she,  with  a  shower  of  tears: 
"  I  love  him,  I  shall  die  loving  him  !  " 

He  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  entreated  her  in  the  most 
earnest  manner  not  to  waste  herself  in  such  self-torments. 
"  Oh  !  it  seems  hard,"  said  he,  "  that  not  only  so  much  that 
is  impossible  should  be  denied  us,  but  so  much  also  that  is 
possible  !  It  was  not  your  lot  to  meet  with  a  faithful  heart 
that  would  have  formed  your  perfect  happiness.  It  was 
mine  to  fix  the  welfare  of  my  life  upon  a  hapless  creature, 
whom,  by  the  weight  of  my  fidelity,  I  drew  to  the  bottom 
like  a  reed,  perhaps  even  broke  in  pieces  !  " 

He  had  told  Aurelia  of  his  intercourse  with  Mariana,  and 
could  therefore  now  refer  to  it.  She  looked  him  intently  in 
the  face,  and  asked,  "  Can  you  say  that  you  never  yet  be- 
trayed a  woman,  that  you  never  tried  with  thoughtless  gal- 
lantry, with  false  asseverations,  with  cajoling  oaths,  to 
wheedle  favor  from  her?" 

"I  can,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  and  indeed  without  much  van- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  253 

ity :  my  life  has  been  so  simple  and  sequestered,  I  have  had 
but  few  enticements  to  attempt  such  things.  And  what  a 
warning,  my  beautiful,  my  noble,  friend,  is  this  melancholy 
state  in  which  I  see  you !  Accept  of  me  a  vow,  which  is 
suited  to  my  heart ;  which,  under  the  emotion  you  have 
caused  me,  has  settled  into  words  and  shape,  and  will  be 
hallowed  by  the  hour  in  which  I  utter  it.  Each  transitory 
inclination  I  will  study  to  withstand,  and  even  the  most  ear- 
nest I  will  keep  within  my  bosom :  no  woman  shall  receive 
an  acknowledgment  of  love  from  my  lips  to  whom  I  cannot 
consecrate  my  life  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  wild  indifference,  and  drew 
back  some  steps  as  he  offered  her  his  hand.  "  'Tis  of  no 
moment!"  cried  she:  "so  many  women's  tears,  more  or 
fewer ;  the  ocean  will  not  swell  by  reason  of  them.  And 
yet,"  continued  she,  "  among  thousands,  one  woman  saved ; 
that  still  is  something :  among  thousands,  one  honest  man 
discovered ;  this  is  not  to  be  refused.  Do  }-ou  know,  then, 
what  you  promise  ?  ' ' 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  Wilhelm,  with  a  smile,  and  hold- 
ing out  his  hand. 

"  I  accept  it,  then,"  said  she,  and  made  a  movement  with 
her  right  hand,  as  if  meaning  to  take  hold  of  his ;  but  in- 
stantly she  darted  it  into  her  pocket,  pulled  out  her  dagger 
quick  as  lightning,  and  scored  with  the  edge  and  point  of  it 
across  his  hand.  He  hastily  drew  it  back,  but  the  blood  was 
already  running  down. 

"One  must  mark  you  men  rather  sharply,  if  one  would 
have  you  take  heed,"  cried  she,  with  a  wild  mirth,  which 
soon  passed  into  a  quick  assiduity.  She  took  her  handker- 
chief, and  bound  his  hand  with  it  to  stanch  the  fast-flowing 
blood.  "Forgive  a  half-crazed  being,"  cried  she,  "and 
regret  not  these  few  drops  of  blood.  I  am  appeased.  I  am 
again  myself.  On  my  knees  will  I  crave  your  pardon  :  leave 
me  the  comfort  of  healing  you." 

She  ran  to  her  drawer,  brought  lint,  with  other  apparatus, 
stanched  the  blood,  and  viewed  the  wound  attentively.  It 
went  across  the  palm,  close  under  the  thumb,  dividing  the 
life-line,  and  running  towards  the  little  finger.  She  bound 
it  up  in  silence,  with  a  significant,  reflective  look.  He  asked, 
once  or  twice,  "  Aurelia,  how  could  you  hurt  your  friend?  " 

"Hush!"  replied  she.  laying  her  finger  on  her  mouth: 
"Hush!" 


254  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK  Y. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THUS  Wilhelm,  to  his  pair  of  former  wounds,  which  were 
yet  scarcely  healed,  had  now  got  the  accession  of  a  third, 
which  was  fresh  and  not  a  little  disagreeable.  Aurelia  would 
not  suffer  him  to  call  a  surgeon  :  she  dressed  the  hand  with 
all  manner  of  strange  speeches,  saws,  and  ceremonies,  and 
so  placed  him  in  a  very  painful  situation.  Yet  not  he  alone, 
but  all  persons  who  came  near  her,  suffered  by  her  restless- 
ness and  singularity,  and  no  one  more  than  little  Felix. 
This  stirring  child  was  exceedingly  impatient  under  such 
oppression,  and  showed  himself  still  naughtier  the  more  she 
censured  and  instructed  him. 

He  delighted  in  some  practices  which  commonly  are  thought 
bad  habits,  and  in  which  she  would  not  by  any  means  indulge 
him.  He  would  drink,  for  example,  rather  from  the  bottle 
than  the  glass  ;  and  his  food  seemed  visibly  to  have  a  better 
relish  when  eaten  from  the  bowl  than  from  the  plate.  Such 
ill-breeding  was  not  overlooked  :  if  he  left  the  door  standing 
open,  or  slammed  it  to ;  if,  when  bid  do  any  thing,  he  stood 
stock-still,  or  ran  off  violently,  —  he  was  sure  to  have  a  long 
lecture  inflicted  on  him  for  the  fault.  Yet  he  showed  no 
symptoms  of  improvement  from  this  training :  on  the  other 
hand,  his  affection  for  Aurelia  seemed  daily  to  diminish  ; 
there  was  nothing  tender  in  his  tone  when  he  called  her 
mother ;  whereas  he  passionately  clung  to  the  old  nurse, 
who  let  him  have  his  will  in  every  thing. 

But  she  likewise  had  of  late  become  so  sick,  that  they  had 
at  last  been  obliged  to  take  her  from  the  house  into  a  quiet 
lodging ;  and  Felix  would  have  been  entirely  alone  if  Mig- 
nou  had  not,  like  a  kindly  guardian  spirit,  come  to  help  him. 
The  two  children  talked  together,  and  amused  each  other  in 
the  prettiest  style.  She  taught  him  little  songs ;  and  he, 
having  an  excellent  memory,  frequently  recited  them,  to  the 
surprise  of  those  about  him.  She  attempted  also  to  explain 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  255 

her  maps  to  him.  With  these  she  was  still  very  busy,  though 
she  did  not  aeem  to  take  the  fittest  method.  For,  in  study- 
ing countries,  she  appeared  to  care  little  about  any  other 
point  than  whether  they  were  cold  or  warm.  Of  the  north 
and  south  poles,  of  the  horrid  ice  which  reigns  there,  and  of 
the  increasing  heat  the  farther  one  retires  from  them,  she 
could  give  a  very  clear  account.  When  any  one  was  travel- 
ling, she  merely  asked  whether  he  was  going  northward  or 
southward,  and  strove  to  find  his  route  in  her  little  charts. 
Especially  when  Wilhelm  spoke  of  travelling,  she  was  all 
attention,  and  seemed  vexed  when  any  thing  occurred  to 
change  the  subject.  Though  she  could  not  be  prevailed 
upon  to  undertake  a  part,  or  even  to  enter  the  theatre  when 
any  play  was  acting,  yet  she  willingly 'and  zealously  commit- 
ted many  odes  and  songs  to  memory  ;  and  by  unexpectedly, 
and,  as  it  were,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  reciting  some 
such  poem,  generally  of  the  earnest  and  solemn  kind,  she 
would  often  cause  astonishment  in  every  one. 

Serlo,  accustomed  to  regard  with  favor  every  trace  of 
opening  talent,  encouraged  her  in  such  performances ;  but 
what  pleased  him  most  in  Mignon  was  her  sprightly,  various, 
and  often  even  mirthful,  singing.  By  means  of  a  similar 
gift,  the  harper  likewise  had  acquired  his  favor. 

Without  himself  possessing  genius  for  music,  or  playing 
on  any  instrument,  Serlo  could  rightly  prize  the  value  of  the 
art :  he  failed  not,  as  often  as  he  could,  to  enjoy  this  pleas- 
ure, which  cannot  be  compared  with  any  other.  He  held  a 
concert  once  a  week ;  and  now,  with  Mignon,  the  harper, 
and  Laertes,  who  was  not  unskilful  on  the  violin,  he  had 
formed  a  very  curious  domestic  band. 

He  was  wont  to  say,  4iMen  are  so  inclined  to  content 
themselves  with  what  is  commonest ;  the  spirit  and  the 
senses  so  easily  grow  dead  to  the  impressions  of  the  beauti- 
ful and  perfect,  —  that  every  one  should  study,  by  all  meth- 
ods, to  nourish  in  his  mind  the  faculty  of  feeling  these 
things.  For  no  man  can  bear  to  be  entirely  deprived  of 
such  enjoyments :  it  is  only  because  they  are  not  used  to 
taste  of  what  is  excellent  that  the  generality  of  people  take 
delight  in  silly  and  insipid  things,  provided  they  be  new. 
For  this  reason,"  he  would  add,  "one  ought,  every  day  at 
least,  to  hear  a  little  song,  read  a  good  poem,  see  a  fine 
picture,  and,  if  it  were  possible,  to  speak  a  few  reasonable 
words."  With  such  a  turn  of  thought  in  Serlo,  which  in 
some  degree  was  natural  to  him,  the  persons  who  frequented 


256  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

his  society  could  scarcely  be  in  want  of  pleasant  conversa- 
tion. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  instructive  entertainments, 
that  Wilhelm  one  day  received  a  letter  sealed  in  black. 
Werner's  hand  betokened  mournful  news ;  and  our  friend 
was  not  a  little  shocked  when,  opening  the  sheet,  he  found  it 
to  contain  the  tidings  of  his  father's  death,  conveyed  in  a 
very  few  words.  After  a  short  and  sudden  illness,  he  had 
parted  from  the  world,  leaving  his  domestic  affairs  in  the 
best  possible  order. 

This  unlooked-for  intelligence  struck  Wilhelm  to  the  heart. 
He  deeplj*  felt  how  careless  and  negligent  we  often  are  of 
friends  and  relations  while  they  inhabit  with  us  this  terres- 
trial sojourn ;  and  how  we  first  repent  of  our  insensibility 
when  the  fair  union,  at  least  for  this  side  of  time,  is  finally 
cut  asunder.  His  grief  for  the  early  death  of  this  honest 
parent  was  mitigated  only  by  the  feeling  that  he  had  loved 
but  little  in  the  world,  and  the  conviction  that  he  had  enjoyed 
but  little. 

Wilhelm's  thoughts  soon  turned  to  his  own  predicament, 
and  he  felt  himself  extremely  discomposed.  A  person  can 
scarcely  be  put  into  a  more  dangerous  position,  than  when 
external  circumstances  have  produced  some  striking  change 
in  his  condition,  without  his  manner  of  feeling  and  of  think- 
ing having  undergone  any  preparation  for  it.  There  is,  then, 
an  epoch  without  epoch  ;  and  the  contradiction  which  arises 
is  the  greater  the  less  the  person  feels  that  he  is  not  trained 
for  this  new  manner  of  existence. 

Wilhelm  saw  himself  in  freedom,  at  a  moment  when  he 
could  not  yet  be  at  one  with  himself.  His  thoughts  were 
noble,  his  motives  pure,  his  purposes  were  not  to  be  despised. 
All  this  he  could,  with  some  degree  of  confidence,  acknowl- 
edge to  himself :  but  he  had  of  late  been  frequently  enough 
compelled  to  notice,  that  experience  was  sadly  wanting  to 
him ;  and  hence,  on  the  experience  of  others,  and  on  the 
results  which  they  deduced  from  it,  he  put  a  value  far  beyond 
its  real  one,  and  thus  led  himself  still  deeper  into  error. 
What  he  wanted,  he  conceived  he  might  most  readily  acquire 
if  he  undertook  to  collect  and  retain  whatever  memorable 
thought  he  should  meet  with  in  reading  or  in  conversation. 
He  accordingly  recorded  his  own  or  other  men's  opinions, 
nay,  wrote  whole  dialogues,  when  they  chanced  to  interest 
him.  But  unhappily  by  this  means  he  held  fast  the  false 
no  less  firmly  than  the  true ;  he  dwelt  far  too  long  on  one 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  257 

idea,  particularly  when  it  was  of  an  aphoristic  shape ;  and 
thus  he  left  his  natural  mode  of  thought  and  action,  and  fre- 
quently took  foreign  lights  for  his  loadstars.  Aurelia's  bit- 
terness, and  Laertes's  cold  contempt  for  men,  warped  his 
judgment  oftener  than  they  should  have  done :  but  no  one, 
in  his  present  case,  would  have  been  so  dangerous  as  Jarno, 
a  man  whose  clear  intellect  could  form  a  just  and  rigorous 
decision  about  present  things,  but  who  erred,  withal,  in 
enunciating  these  particular  decisions  with  a  kind  of  univer- 
sal application ;  whereas,  in  truth,  the  judgments  of  the 
understanding  are  properly  of  force  but  once,  and  that  in 
the  strictest  cases,  and  become  inaccurate  in  some  degree 
when  applied  to  any  other. 

Thus  Wilhelm,  striving  to  become  consistent  with  himself, 
was  deviating  farther  and  farther  from  wholesome  consist- 
ency ;  and  this  confusion  made  it  easier  for  his  passions  to 
employ  their  whole  artillery  against  him,  and  thus  still  farther 
to  perplex  his  views  of  duty. 

Serlo  did  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the  late  tidings ; 
and  in  truth  he  daily  had  more  reason  to  be  anxious  about 
some  fresh  arrangement  of  his  people.  Either  he  must  soon 
renew  his  old  contracts,  — a  measure  he  was  not  specially  fond 
of;  for  several  of  his  actors,  who  reckoned  themselves  indis- 
pensable, were  growing  more  and  more  arrogant,  —  or  else  he 
must  entirely  new-model  and  re-form  his  company ;  which 
plan  he  looked  upon  as  preferable. 

Though  he  did  not  perspnally  importune  our  friend,  he  set 
Aurelia  and  Philina  on  him ;  and  the  other  wanderers,  long- 
ing for  some  kind  of  settlement,  on  their  side,  gave  Wilhelm 
not  a  moment's  rest ;  so  that  he  stood  hesitating  in  his 
choice,  in  no  slight  embarrassment  till  he  should  decide. 
Who  would  have  thought  that  a  letter  of  Werner's,  written 
with  quite  different  views,  should  have  forced  him  on  resolv- 
ing? We  shall  omit  the  introduction,  and  give  the  rest  of  it 
with  little  alteration. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  IT  was,  therefore,  and  it  always  must  be,  right  for  every 
one,  on  any  opportunity,  to  follow  his  vocation  and  exhibit 


258  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

his  activity.  Scarcely  had  the  good  old  man  been  gone  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  when  every  thing  in  the  house  began 
moving  by  a  different  plan  than  his.  Friends,  acquaintances, 
relations,  crowded  forward,  especially  all  sorts  of  people 
who  on  such  occasions  use  to  gain  any  thing.  They  fetched 
and  carried,  they  counted,  wrote,  and  reckoned ;  some 
brought  wine  and  meat,  others  ate  and  drank ;  and  none 
seemed  busier  than  the  women  getting  out  the  mourn- 
ings. 

"  Such  being  the  case,  thou  wilt  not  blame  me,  that,  in  this 
emergency,  I  likewise  thought  of  my  advantage.  I  made 
myself  as  active,  and  as  helpful  to  thy  sister,  as  I  could,  and, 
so  soon  as  it  was  any  way  decorous,  signified  to  her  that  it 
had  now  become  our  business  to  accelerate  a  union  which 
our  parents, .in  their  too  great  circumspection,  had  hitherto 
postponed. 

"  Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  it  came  into  our  heads  to 
take  possession  of  that  monstrous  empty  house.  "We  are 
more  modest  and  more  rational.  Thou  shalt  hear  our  plan  : 
thy  sister,  so  soon  as  we  are  married,  comes  to  our  house ; 
and  thy  mother  comes  along  with  her.  '  How  can  that  be? ' 
thou  wilt  say :  '  you  have  scarcely  room  for  yourselves  in 
that  hampered  nest.'  There  lies  the  art  of  it,  my  friend. 
Good  packing  renders  all  things  possible  :  thou  wouldst  not 
believe  what  space  one  finds  when  one  desires  to  occupy  but 
little.  The  large  house  we  shall  sell,  — an  opportunity  occurs 
for  this  ;  and  the  money  we  shall  draw  for  it  will  produce  a 
hundred-fold. 

"  I  hope  this  meets  thy  views  :  I  hope  also  thou  hast  not 
inherited  the  smallest  particle  of  those  unprofitable  tastes  for 
which  thy  father  and  thy  grandfather  were  noted.  The  latter 
placed  his  greatest  happiness  in  having  about  him  a  multitude 
of  dull-looking  works  of  art,  which  no  one,  I  may  well  say 
no  one,  could  enjoy  with  him :  the  former  lived  in  a  stately 
pomp,  which  he  suffered  no  one  to  enjoy  with  him.  We 
mean  to  manage  otherwise,  and  we  expect  thy  approbation. 

"  It  is  true,  I  myself  in  all  the  house  have  no  place  what- 
ever but  the  stool  before  my  writing-desk ;  and  I  see  not 
clearly  where  they  will  be  able  to  put  a  cradle  down :  but,  in 
return,  the  room  we  shall  have  out  of  doors  will  be  the  more 
abundant.  Coffee-houses  and  clubs  for  the  husband,  walks 
and  drives  for  the  wife,  and  pleasant  country  jaunts  for 
both.  But  the  chief  advantage  in  our  plan  is,  that,  the  round 
table  being  now  completely  filled,  our  father  cannot  ask  his 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  259 

friends  to  dinner,  who,  the  more  he  strove  to  entertain  them, 
used  to  laugh  at  him  the  more. 

"  Now  no  superfluity  for  us  !  Not  too  much  furniture  and 
apparatus  ;  no  coach,  no  horses !  Nothing  but  money,  and 
the  liberty,  day  after  day,  to  do  what  you  like  in  reason. 
No  wardrobe  ;  still  the  best  and  newest  on  your  back :  the 
man  may  wear  his  coat  till  it  is  done  ;  the  wife  may  truck  her 
gown,  the  moment  it  is  going  out  of  fashion.  There  is  noth- 
ing so  unsufferable  to  me  as  an  old  huckster's  shop  of  prop- 
erty. If  you  would  offer  me  a  jewel,  on  condition  of  my 
wearing  it  daily  on  my  finger,  I  would  not  accept  it ;  for  how 
can  one  conceive  any  pleasure  in  a  dead  capital?  This,  then, 
is  my  confession  of  faith:  To  transact  your  business,  to 
make  money,  to  be  merry  with  your  household ;  and  about 
the  rest  of  the  earth  to  trouble  yourself  no  farther  than 
where  you  can  be  of  service  to  it. 

"  But  ere  now  thou  art  saying,  '  And,  pray,  what  is  to  be 
done  with  me  in  this  sage  plan  of  yours  ?  Where  shall  I  find 
shelter  when  you  have  sold  my  own  house,  and  not  the 
smallest  room  remains  in  yours?' 

"  This  is,  in  truth,  the  main  point,  brother;  and  in  this, 
too,  I  shall  have  it  in  my  power  to  serve  thee.  But  first  I 
must  present  the  just  tribute  of  my  praise  for  time  so  spent 
as  thine  has  been. 

"Tell  me,  how  hast  thou  within  a  few  weeks  become  so 
skilled  in  every  useful,  interesting  object?  Highly  as  I 
thought  of  thy  powers,  I  did  not  reckon  such  attention  and 
such  diligence  among  the  number.  Thy  journal  shows  us 
with  what  profit  thou  art  travelling.  The  description  of  the 
iron  and  the  copper  forges  is  exquisite  :  it  evinces  a  complete 
knowledge  of  the  subject.  I  myself  was  once  there ;  but 
my  relation,  compared  with  this,  has  but  a  very  bungled  look. 
The  whole  letter  on  the  linen-trade  is  full  of  information : 
the  remarks  on  commercial  competition  are  at  once  just  and 
striking.  In  one  or  two  places,  there  are  errors  in  addition, 
which  indeed  are  very  pardonable. 

"But  what  most  delights  my  father  and  myself,  is  thy 
thorough  knowledge  of  husbandry,  and  the  improvement  of 
landed  property.  We  have  thoughts  of  purchasing  a  large 
estate,  at  present  under  sequestration,  in  a  very  fruitful  dis- 
trict. For  paying  it,  we  mean  to  use  the  money  realized  by 
the  sale  of  the  house ;  another  portion  we  shall  borrow ;  a 
portion  may  remain  unpaid.  And  we  count  on  thee  for  going 
thither,  and  superintending  the  improvement  of  it ;  by  which 


260  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

means,  before  many  years  are  passed,  the  land,  to  speak  in 
moderation,  will  have  risen  above  a  third  in  value.  We  shall 
then  bring  it  to  the  market  again,  seek  out  a  larger  piece, 
improve  and  trade  as  formerly.  For  all  this  thou  art  the  man. 
Our  pens,  meanwhile,  will  not  lie  idle  here ;  and  so  by  and 
by  we  shall  rise  to  be  enviable  people. 

"  For  the  present,  fare  thee  well !  Enjoy  life  on  thy  jour- 
ney, and  turn  thy  face  wherever  thou  canst  find  contentment 
and  advantage.  For  the  next  half-year  we  shall  not  need 
thee  ;  thou  canst  look  about  thee  in  the  world  as  thou  pleas- 
est :  a  judicious  person  finds  his  best  instruction  in  his  trav- 
els. Farewell !  I  rejoice  at  being  connected  with  thee  so 
closely  by  relation,  and  now  united  with  thee  in  the  spirit 
of  activity." 

Well  as  this  letter  might  be  penned,  and  full  of  economical 
truths  as  it  was,  Wilhelm  felt  displeased  with  it  for  more  than 
one  reason.  The  praise  bestowed  on  him  for  his  pretended 
statistical,  technological,  and  rural  knowledge  was  a  silent 
reprimand.  The  ideal  of  the  happiness  of  civic  life,  which 
his  worthy  brother  sketched,  by  no  means  charmed  him :  on 
the  contrary,  a  secret  spirit  of  contradiction  dragged  him  for- 
cibly the  other  way.  He  convinced  himself,  that,  except  on 
the  stage,  he  could  nowhere  find  that  mental  culture  which  he 
longed  to  give  himself :  he  seemed  to  grow  the  more  decided 
in  his  resolution,  the  more  strongly  Werner,  without  knowing 
it,  opposed  him.  Thus  assailed,  he  collected  all  his  argu- 
ments together,  and  buttressed  his  opinions  in  his  mind  the 
more  carefully,  the  more  desirable  he  reckoned  it  to  show 
them  in  a  favorable  light  to  Werner ;  and  in  this  manner  he 
produced  an  answer,  which  also  we  insert. 


CHAPTER  III. 

.  "  THY  letter  is  so  well  written,  and  so  prudently  and  wisely 
conceived,  that  no  objection  can  be  made  to  it.  Only  thou 
must  pardon  me,  when  I  declare  that  one  may  think,  maintain, 
and  do  directly  the  reverse,  and  yet  be  in  the  right  as  well  as 
thou.  Thy  mode  of  being  and  imagining  appears  to  turn  on 
boundless  acquisition,  and  a  light,  mirthful  manner  of  enjoy- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  261 

ment :  I  need  scarcely  tell  thee,  that  in  all  this  I  find  little 
that  can  charm  me. 

"  First,  however,  I  am  sorry  to  admit,  that  my  journal  is 
none  of  mine.  Under  the  pressure  of  necessity,  and  to 
satisfy  my  father,  it  was  patched  together  by  a  friend's  help, 
out  of  many  books  :  and  though  in  words  I  know  the  objects 
it  relates  to,  and  more  of  the  like  sort,  I  by  no  means  under- 
stand them,  or  can  occupy  myself  about  them.  What  good 
were  it  for  me  to  manufacture  perfect  iron  while  my  own 
breast  is  full  of  dross?  What  would  it  stead  me  to  put 
properties  of  laud  in  order,  while  I  am  at  variance  with 
myself  ? 

"To  speak  it  in  a  word,  the  cultivation  of  my  individual 
self,  here  as  I  am,  has  from  my  youth  upwards  been  con- 
stantly though  dimly  my  wish  and  my  purpose.  The  same 
intention  I  still  cherish,  but  the  means  of  realizing  it  are  now 
grown  somewhat  clearer.  I  have  seen  more  of  life  than  thou 
believest,  and  profited  more  by  it  also.  Give  some  attention, 
then,  to  what  I  say,  though  it  should  not  altogether  tally  with 
thy  own  opinions. 

"Had  I  been  a  nobleman,  our  dispute  would  soon  have 
been  decided ;  but,  being  a  simple  burgher,  I  must  take  a 
path  of  my  own  :  and  I  fear  it  may  be  difficult  to  make  thee 
understand  me.  I  know  not  how  it  is  in  foreign  countries, 
but  in  Germany,  a  universal,  and,  if  I  may  say  so,  personal, 
cultivation  is  beyond  the  reach  of  any  one  except  a  nobleman. 
A  burgher  may  acquire  merit ;  by  excessive  efforts  he  may 
even  educate  his  mind ;  but  his  personal  qualities  are  lost, 
or  worse  than  lost,  let  him  straggle  as  he  will.  Since  the 
nobleman,  frequenting  the  society  of  the  most  polished,  is 
compelled  to  give  himself  a  polished  manner ;  since  this  man- 
ner, neither  door  nor  gate  being  shut  against  him,  grows  at 
last  an  unconstrained  one ;  since,  in  court  or  camp,  his  fig- 
ure, his  person,  are  a  part  of  his  possessions,  and,  it  may  be, 
the  most  necessary  part,  —  he  has  reason  enough  to  put  some 
value  on  them,  and  to  show  that  he  puts  some.  A  certain 
stately  grace  in  common  things,  a  sort  of  gay  elegance  in  ear- 
nest and  important  ones,  becomes  him  well ;  for  it  shows  him 
to  be  Everywhere  in  equilibrium.  He  is  a  public  person  ;  and 
the  more  cultivated  his  movements,  the  more  sonorous  his 
voice,  the  more  staid  and  measured  his  whole  being  is,  the 
more  perfect  is  he.  If  to  high  and  low,  to  friends  and  rela- 
tions, he  continues  still  the  same,  then  nothing  can  be  said 
against  him,  none  may  wish  him  otherwise.  His  coldness 


262  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

must  be  reckoned  clearness  of  head,  his  dissimulation  pru- 
dence. If  he  can  rule  himself  externally  at  every  moment 
of  his  life,  no  man  has  aught  more  to  demand  of  him  ;  and, 
whatever  else  there  may  be  in  him  or  about  him,  capacities, 
talents,  wealth,  all  seem  gifts  of  supererogation. 

"  Now,  imagine  any  burgher  offering  ever  to  pretend  to 
these  advantages,  he  will  utterly  fail,  and  the  more  com- 
pletely, the  greater  inclination  and  the  more  endowments 
nature  may  have  given  him  for  that  mode  of  being. 

"  Since,  in  common  life,  the  nobleman  is  hampered  by  no 
limits ;  since  kings,  or  kinglike  figures,  do  not  differ  from 
him,  —  he  can  everywhere  advance  with  a  silent  conscious- 
ness, as  if  before  his  equals  :  everywhere  he  is  entitled  to  press 
forward,  whereas  nothing  more  beseems  the  burgher  than  the 
quiet  feeling  of  the  limits  that  are  drawn  round  him.  The 
burgher  may  not  ask  himself,  '  What  art  thou  ? '  He  can  only 
ask,  '  What  hast  thou?  What  discernment,  knowledge,  tal- 
ent, wealth?  '  If  the  nobleman,  merely  by  his  personal  car- 
riage, offers  all  that  can  be  asked  of  him,  the  burgher  by  his 
personal  carriage  offers  nothing,  and  can  offer  nothing.  The 
former  has  a  right  to  seem :  the  latter  is  compelled  to  be, 
and  what  he  aims  at  seeming  becomes  ludicrous  and  taste- 
less. The  former  does  and  makes,  the  latter  but  effects  and 
procures  ;  he  must  cultivate  some  single  gifts  in  order  to  be 
useful ;  and  it  is  beforehand  settled,  that,  in  his  manner  of 
existence,  there  is  no  harmony,  and  can  be  none,  since  he  is 
bound  to  make  himself  of  use  in  one  department,  and  so  has 
to  relinquish  all  the  others. 

"  Perhaps  the  reason  of  this  difference  is  not  the  usurpa- 
tion of  the  nobles,  and  the  submission  of  the  burghers,  but 
the  constitution  of  society  itself.  Whether  it  will  ever  alter, 
and  how,  is  to  me  of  small  importance :  my  present  business 
is  to  meet  my  own  case,  as  matters  actually  stand ;  to  con- 
sider by  what  means  I  may  save  myself,  and  reach  the  object 
which  I  cannot  live  in  peace  without. 

"  Now,  tnis  harmonious  cultivation  of  my  nature,  which 
has  been  denied  me  by  birth,  is  exactly  what  I  most  long 
for.  Since  leaving  thee,  I  have  gained  much  by  voluntary 
practice :  I  have  laid  aside  much  of  my  wonted  embarrass- 
ment, and  can  bear  myself  in  very  tolerable  style.  My  speech 
and  voice  I  have  likewise  been  attending  to  ;  and  I  may  say, 
without  much  vanity,  that  in  society  I  do  not  cause  displeas- 
ure. But  I  will  not  conceal  from  thee,  that  my  inclination 
to  become  a  public  person,  and  to  please  and  influence  in  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  263 

larger  circle,  is  daily  growing  more  insuperable.  With  this, 
there  is  combined  my  love  for  poetry  and  all  that  is  related 
to  it ;  and  the  necessity  I  feel  to  cultivate  my  mental  faculties 
and  tastes,  that  so,  in  this  enjoj^meut  henceforth  indispensa- 
ble, I  may  esteem  as  good  the  good  alone,  as  beautiful  the 
beautiful  alone.  Thou  seest  well,  that  for  me  all  this  is  no- 
where to  be  met  with  except  upon  the  stage  ;  that  in  this  ele- 
ment alone  can  I  effect  and  cultivate  myself  according  to  my 
wishes.  On  the  boards  a  polished  man  appears  in  his  splen- 
dor with  personal  accomplishments,  just  as  he  does  so  in  the 
upper  classes  of  society  ;  body  and  spirit  must  advance  with 
equal  steps  in  all  his  studies ;  and  there  I  shall  have  it  in  my 
power  at  once  to  be  and  seem  as  well  as  anywhere.  If  I 
further  long  for  solid  occupations,  we  have  there  mechanical 
vexatious  in  abundance :  I  may  give  my  patience  daily  exer- 
cise. 

"Dispute  not  with  me  on  this  subject;  for,  ere  thou 
writest,  the  step  is  taken.  In  compliance  with  the  ruling 
prejudices,  I  will  change  my  name  ;  as,  indeed,  that  of  Meis- 
ter,  or  Master,  does  not  suit  me.  Farewell !  Our  fortune  is 
in  good  hands :  on  that  subject  I  shall  not  disturb  myself. 
What  I  need  I  will,  as  occasion  calls,  require  from  thee :  it 
will  not  be  much,  for  I  hope  my  art  will  be  sufficient  to 
maintain  me." 

Scarcely  was  the  letter  sent  away,  when  our  friend  made 
good  his  words.  To  the  great  surprise  of  Serlo  and  the  rest, 
he  at  once  declared  that  he  was  ready  to  become  an  actor, 
and  bind  himself  by  a  contract  on  reasonable  terms.  With 
regard  to  these  they  were  soon  agreed  ;  for  Serlo  had  before 
made  offers,  with  which  Wilhelm  and  his  comrades  had  good 
reason  to  be  satisfied.  The  whole  of  that  unlucky  company, 
wherewith  we  have  had  so  long  to  occupy  ourselves,  was  now 
at  once  received  ;  and,  except  perhaps  Laertes,  not  a  member 
of  it  showed  the  smallest  thankfulness  to  Wilhelm.  As  they 
had  entreated  without  confidence,  so  they  accepted  without 
gratitude.  Most  of  them  preferred  ascribing  their  appoint- 
ment to  the  influence  of  Philina,  and  directed  their  thanks  to 
her.  Meanwhile  the  contracts  had  been  written  out,  and 
were  now  a-signing.  At  the  moment  when  our  friend  was 
subscribing  his  assumed  designation,  by  some  inexplicable 
concatenation  of  ideas,  there  arose  before  his  mind's  eye  the 
image  of  that  green  in  the  forest  where  he  lay  wounded  in 
Phinna's  lap.  The  lovely  Amazon  came  riding  on  her  gray 


264  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

palfrey  from  the  bnshes  of  the  wood :  she  approached  him 
and  dismounted.  Her  humane  anxiety  made  her  come  and 
go :  at  length  she  stood  before  him.  The  white  surtout  fell 
down  from  her  shoulders  :  her  countenance,  her  form,  began 
to  glance  in  radiance  ;  and  she  vanished  from  his  sight.  He 
wrote  his  name  mechanically  only,  not  knowing  what  he  did, 
and  felt  not,  till  after  he  had  signed,  that  Mignon  was  stand- 
ing at  his  side,  was  holding  by  his  arm,  and  had  softly  tried 
to  stop  him,  and  pull  back  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  TV. 

ONE  of  the  conditions  under  which  our  friend  had  gone 
upon  the  stage  was  not  acceded  to  by  Serlo  without  some 
limitations.  Wilhelm  had  required  that  "Hamlet"  should 
be  played  entire  and  unmutilated  :  the  other  had  agreed  to 
this  strange  stipulation,  in  so  far  as  it  was  possible.  On 
this  point  they  had  many  a  contest ;  for  as  to  what  was  pos- 
sible or  not  possible,  and  what  parts  of  the  piece  could  be 
omitted  without  mutilating  it,  the  two  were  of  very  different 
opinions. 

Wilhelm  was  still  in  that  happy  season  when  one  cannot 
understand  how,  in  the  woman  one  loves,  in  the  writer  one 
honors,  there  should  be  any  thing  defective.  The  feeling 
they  excite  in  us  is  so  entire,  so  accordant  with  itself,  that 
we  cannot  help  attributing  the  same  perfect  harmony  to  the 
objects  themselves.  Serlo  again  was  willing  to  discriminate, 
perhaps  too  willing :  his  acute  understanding  could  usually 
discern  in  any  work  of  art  nothing  but  a  more  or  less  im- 
perfect whole.  He  thought,  that  as  pieces  usually  stood, 
there  was  little  reason  to  be  chary  about  meddling  with 
them;  that  of  course  Shakspeare,  and  particularly  '"Ham- 
let," would  need  to  suffer  much  curtailment. 

But,  when  Serlo  talked  of  separating  the  wheat  from  the 
chaff,  Wilhelm  would  not  hear  of  it.  "It  is  not  chaff  and 
wheat  together,"  said  he  :  "  it  is  a  trunk  with  boughs,  twigs, 
leaves,  buds,  blossoms,  and  fruit.  Is  not  the  one  there  with 
the  others,  and  by  means  of  them?  "  To  which  Serlo  would 
reply,  that  people  did  not  bring  a  whole  tree  upon  the  table  ; 
that  the  artist  was  required  to  present  his  guests  with  silver 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  265 

apples  in  platters  of  silver.  They  exhausted  their  inven- 
tion in  similitudes,  and  their  opinions  seemed  still  farther  to 
diverge. 

Our  friend  was  on  the  borders  of  despair,  when  on  one 
occasion,  after  much  debating,  Serlo  counselled  him  to  take 
the  simple  plan,  —  to  make  a  brief  resolution,  to  grasp  his 
pen,  to  peruse  the  tragedy  ;  dashing  out  whatever  would  not 
answer,  compressing  several  personages  into  one  :  and  if  he 
was  not  skilled  in  such  proceedings,  or  had  not  heart  enough 
for  going  through  with  them,  he  might  leave  the  task  to  him, 
the  manager,  who  would  engage  to  make  short  work  with 
it. 

"That  is  not  our  bargain,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "How 
can  you.  with  all  your  taste,  show  so  much  levity?  " 

"  My  friend,"  cried  Serlo,  "  you  yourself  will  erelong  feel 
it  and  show  it.  I  know  too  well  how  shocking  such  a  mode 
of  treating  works  is :  perhaps  it  never  was  allowed  on  any 
theatre  till  now.  But  where,  indeed,  was  ever  one  so 
slighted  as  ours?  Authors  force  us  on  this  wretched  clip- 
ping system,  and  the  public  tolerates  it.  How  many  pieces 
have  we,  pray,  which  do  not  overstep  the  measure  of  our 
numbers,  of  our  decorations  and  theatrical  machinery,  of  the 
proper  time,  of  the  fit  alternation  of  dialogue,  and  the  phys- 
ical strength  of  the  actor?  And  yet  we  are  to  play,  and 
play,  and  constantly  give  novelties.  Ought  we  not  to  profit 
by  our  privilege,  then,  since  we  accomplish  just  as  much  by 
mutilated  works  as  by  entire  ones  ?  It  is  the  public  itself 
that  grants  the  privilege.  Few  Germans,  perhaps  few  men 
of  any  modern  nation,  have  a  proper  sense  of  an  aesthetic 
whole :  —  they  praise  and  blame  by  passages ;  they  are 
charmed  by  passages ;  and  who  has  greater  reason  to  re- 
joice at  this  than  actors,  since  the  stage  is  ever  but  a  patched 
and  piece-work  matter?  " 

"  Is !  "  cried  Wilhelm  ;  "  but  must  it  ever  be  so?  Must 
every  thing  that  is  continue  ?  Convince  me  not  that  you  are 
right,  for  no  power  on  earth  should  force  me  to  abide  by 
any  contract  which  I  had  concluded  with  the  grossest  mis- 
conceptions." 

Serlo  gave  a  merry  turn  to  the  business,  and  persuaded 
"Wilhelm  to  review  once  more  the  many  conversations  they 
had  had  together  about  "  Hamlet,"  and  himself  to  invent 
some  means  of  properly  re-forming  the  piece. 

After  a  few  days,  which  he  had  spent  alone,  our  friend  re- 
turned with  a  cheerful  look.  "  I  am  much  mistaken,"  cried 


266  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

he,  "if  I  have  not  now  discovered  how  the  whole  is  to  be 
managed :  nay,  I  am  convinced  that  Shakspeare  himself 
would  have  arranged  it  so,  had  not  his  mind  been  too  ex- 
clusively directed  to  the  ruling  interest,  and  perhaps  misled 
by  the  novels  which  furnished  him  with  his  materials." 

"  Let  us  hear,"  said  Serlo,  placing  himself  with  an  air  of 
solemnity  upon  the  sofa:  "I  will  listen  calmly,  but  judge 
with  rigor." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  only  hear  me. 
In  the  composition  of  this  play,  after  the  most  accurate  in- 
vestigation and  the  most  mature  reflection,  I  distinguish  two 
classes  of  objects.  The  first  are  the  grand  internal  relations 
of  the  persons  and  events,  the  powerful  effects  which  arise 
from  the  characters  and  proceedings  of  the  main  figures : 
these,  I  hold,  are  individually  excellent ;  and  the  order  in 
which  they  are  presented  cannot  be  improved.  No  kind  of 
interference  must  be  suffered  to  destroy  them,  or  even 
essentially  to  change  their  form.  These  are  the  things 
which  stamp  themselves  deep  into  the  soul,  which  all  men 
long  to  see,  which  no  one  dares  to  meddle  with.  Accord- 
ingly, I  understand,  they  have  almost  wholly  been  retained 
in  all  our  German  theatres.  But  our  countrymen  have 
erred,  in  my  opinion,  with  regard  to  the  second  class  of 
objects,  which  may  be  observed  in  this  tragedy :  I  allude 
to  the  external  relations  of  the  persons,  whereby  they  are 
brought  from  place  to  place,  or  combined  in  various  ways, 
by  certain  accidental  incidents.  These  they  have  looked 
upon  as  very  unimportant ;  have  spoken  of  them  only  in 
passing,  or  left  them  out  altogether.  Now,  indeed,  it  must 
be  owned,  these  threads  are  slack  and  slender ;  yet  they  run 
through  the  entire  piece,  and  bind  together  much  that  would 
otherwise  fall  asunder,  and  does  actually  fall  asunder,  when 
you  cut  them  off,  and  imagine  you  have  done  enough  and 
more,  if  you  have  left  the  ends  hanging. 

"  Among  these  external  relations  I  include  the  disturb- 
ances in  Norway,  the  war  with  young  Fortinbras,  the  em- 
bassy to  his  uncle,  the  settling  of  that  feud,  the  march  of 
young  Fortinbras  to  Poland,  and  his  coming  back  at  the 
end  ;  of  the  same  sort  are  Horatio's  return  from  Wittenberg, 
Hamlet's  wish  to  go  thither,  the  journey  of  Laertes  to 
France,  his  return,  the  despatch  of  Hamlet  into  England, 
his  capture  by  pirates,  the  death  of  the  two  courtiers  by  the 
letter  which  they  carried.  All  these  circumstances  and 
events  would  be  very  fit  for  expanding  and  lengthening  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  267 

novel ;  but  here  they  injure  exceedingly  the  unity  of  the 
piece,  particularly  as  the  hero  has  no  plan,  and  are,  in  con- 
sequence, entirely  out  of  place." 

"  For  once  in  the  right !  "  cried  Serlo. 

"Do  not  interrupt  me,"  answered  Wilhelm:  "perhaps 
you  will  not  always  think  me  right.  These  errors  are  like 
temporary  props  of  an  edifice :  they  must  not  be  removed 
till  we  have  built  a  firm  wall  in  their  stead.  My  project, 
therefore,  is,  not  at  all  to  change  those  first- mentioned  grand 
situations,  or  at  least  as  much  as  possible  to  spare  them, 
both  collectively  and  individually  ;  but  with  respect  to  these 
external,  single,  dissipated,  and  dissipating  motives,  to  cast 
them  all  at  once  away,  and  substitute  a  solitary  one  instead 
of  them." 

"And  this?"  inquired  Serlo,  springing  up  from  his  re- 
cumbent posture. 

"  It  lies  in  the  piece  itself,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  only  I 
employ  it  rightly.  There  are  disturbances  in  Norway.  You 
shall  hear  my  plan,  and  try  it." 

"After  the  death  of  Hamlet  the  father,  the  Norwegians, 
lately  conquered,  grow  unruty.  The  viceroy  of  that  country 
sends  his  son,  Horatio,  an  old  school-friend  of  Hamlet's, 
and  distinguished  above  every  other  for  his  bravery  and  pru- 
dence, to  Denmark,  to  press  forward  the  equipment  of  the 
fleet,  which,  under  the  new  luxurious  king,  proceeds  but 
slowly.  Horatio  has  known  the  former  king,  having  fought 
in  his  battles,  having  even  stood  in  favor  with  him,  —  a  cir- 
cumstance by  which  the  first  ghost-scene  will  be  nothing 
injured.  The  new  sovereign  gives  Horatio  audience,  and 
sends  Laertes  into  Norway  with  intelligence  that  the  fleet 
will  soon  arrive ;  whilst  Horatio  is  commissioned  to  accel- 
erate the  preparation  of  it :  and  the  Queen,  on  the  other 
hand,  will  not  consent  that  Hamlet,  as  he  wishes,  should  go 
to  sea  along  with  him." 

"Heaven  be  praised!"  cried  Serlo:  "we  shall  now  get 
rid  of  Wittenberg  and  the  university,  which  was  always  a 
sorry  piece  of  business.  I  think  your  idea  extremely  good  ; 
for,  except  these  two  distant  objects,  Norway  and  the  fleet, 
the  spectator  will  not  be  required  to  fancy  any  thing :  the 
rest  he  will  see;  the  rest  takes  place  before  him;  whereas, 
his  imagination,  on  the  other  plan,  was  hunted  over  all  the 
world." 

"You  easily  perceive,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  how  I  shall  con- 
trive to  keep  the  other  parts  together.  When  Hamlet  tells 


268  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Horatio  of  his  uncle's  crime,  Horatio  counsels  him  to  go  to 
Norway  in  his  company,  to  secure  the  affections  of  the  army, 
and  return  in  warlike  force.  Hamlet  also  is  becoming  dan- 
gerous to  the  King  and  Queen  ;  they  find  no  readier  method  of 
deliverance,  than  to  send  him  in  the  fleet,  with  Rosencrantz 
and  Guildenstern  to  be  spies  upon  him ;  and,  as  Laertes  in 
the  mean  time  comes  from  France,  they  determine  that  this 
youth,  exasperated  even  to  murder,  shall  go  after  him.  Un- 
favorable winds  detain  the  fleet :  Hamlet  returns ;  for  his 
wandering  through  the  churchyard,  perhaps  some  lucky  mo- 
tive may  be  thought  of ;  his  meeting  with  Laertes  in  Ophe- 
lia's grave  is  a  grand  moment,  which  we  must  not  part  with. 
After  this,  the  King  resolves  that  it  is  better  to  get  quit  of 
Hamlet  on  the  spot :  the  festival  of  his  departure,  the  pre- 
tended reconcilement  with  Laertes,  are  now  solemnized ;  on 
which  occasion  knightly  sports  are  held,  and  Laertes  fights 
with  Hamlet.  Without  the  four  corpses,  I  cannot  end  the 
play :  no  one  must  survive.  The  right  of  popular  election 
now  again  comes  in  force ;  and  Hamlet,  while  dying,  gives 
his  vote  to  Horatio." 

"Quick!  quick!"  said  Serlo,  "sit  down  and  work  the 
play :  your  plan  has  my  entire  approbation ;  only  let  not 
your  zeal  evaporate." 


CHAPTER  V. 

WILHELM  had  already  been  for  some  time  busied  with 
translating  "  Hamlet ;  "  making  use,  as  he  labored,  of  Wie- 
iand's  spirited  performance,  through  which  he  had  first  be- 
come acquainted  with  Shakspeare.  What  had  been  omitted 
in  Wieland's  work  he  replaced,  and  had  secured  a  complete 
version,  at  the  very  time  when  Serlo  and  he  were  pretty  well 
agreed  about  the  way  of  treating  it.  He  now  began,  accord- 
ing to  his  plan,  to  cut  out  and  insert,  to  separate  and  unite, 
to  alter,  and  often  to  restore ;  for,  satisfied  as  he  was  with 
his  own  conception,  it  still  appeared  to  him  as  if,  in  execut- 
ing it,  he  were  but  spoiling  the  original." 

When  all  was  finished,  he  read  his  work  to  Serlo  and  the 
rest.  The}'  declared  themselves  exceedingly  contented  with 
it :  Serlo,  in  particular,  made  many  flattering  observations. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  269 

"You  have  felt  very  justly,"  said  he,  among  other  things, 
"  that  some  external  circumstances  must  accompany  this 
play,  but  that  they  must  be  simpler  than  those  which  the 
great  poet  has  employed.  "What  takes  place  without  the 
theatre,  what  the  spectator  does  not  see,  but  must  imagine, 
is  like  a  background,  in  front  of  which  the  acting  figures 
move.  Your  large  and  simple  prospect  of  the  fleet  and  Nor- 
way will  do  much  to  improve  the  play ;  if  this  were  alto- 
gether taken  from  it,  we  should  have  but  a  family  scene 
remaining ;  and  the  great  idea,  that  here  a  kingly  house,  by 
internal  crimes  and  incongruities,  goes  down  to  ruin,  would 
not  be  presented  with  its  proper  dignity.  But  if  the  former 
background  were  left  standing,  so  manifold,  so  fluctuating 
and  confused,  it  would  hurt  the  impression  of  the  figures." 

Wilhelm  again  took  Shakspeare's  part;  alleging  that  he 
wrote  for  islanders,  for  Englishmen,  who  generally,  in  the 
distance,  were  accustomed  to  see  little  else  than  ships  and 
voyages,  the  coast  of  France  and  privateers  ;  and  thus  what 
perplexed  and  distracted  others  was  to  them  quite  natural. 

Serlo  assented ;  and  both  were  of  opinion,  that,  as  the 
play  was  now  to  be  produced  upon  the  German  stage,  this 
more  serious  and  simple  background  was  the  best  adapted 
for  the  German  mind. 

The  parts  had  been  distributed  before :  Serlo  undertook 
Polouius  ;  Aurelia,  Ophelia ;  Laertes  was  already  designated 
by  his  name  ;  a  young,  thick-set,  jolly  new-comer  was  to  be 
Horatio ;  the  King  and  Ghost  alone  occasioned  some  per 
plexity,  for  both  of  these  no  one  but  Old  Boisterous  remain- 
ing. Serlo  proposed  to  make  the  Pedant,  King ;  but  against 
this  our  friend  protested  in  the  strongest  terms.  They  could 
resolve  on  nothing. 

Wilhelm  had  also  allowed  both  Rosencrantz  and  Guilden- 
stern  to  continue  in  his  play.  "  Why  not  compress  them 
into  one?"  said  Serlo.  "This  abbreviation  will  not  cost 
you  much." 

"  Heaven  keep  me  from  all  such  curtailments  !  "  answered 
Wilhelm:  "  they  destroy  at  once  the  sense  and  the  effect. 
What  these  two  persons  are  and  do  it  is  impossible  to  rep- 
resent by  one.  In  such  small  matters  we  discover  Shak- 
speare's greatness.  These  soft  approaches,  this  smirking 
and  bowing,  this  assenting,  wheedling,  flattering,  this  whisk- 
ing agility,  this  wagging  of  the  tail,  this  allness  and  empti- 
ness, this  legal  knavery,  this  ineptitude  and  insipidity,— 
how  can  they  be  expressed  by  a  single  man  ?  There  ought 


270  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  be  at  least  a  dozen  of  these  people,  if  they  could  be  had  ; 
for  it  is  only  in  society  that  they  are  any  thing ;  they  are 
society  itself  ;  and  Shakspeare  showed  no  little  wisdom  and 
discernment  in  bringing  in  a  pair  of  them.  Besides,  I  need 
them  as  a  couple  that  may  be  contrasted  with  the  single, 
noble,  excellent  Horatio." 

"I  understand  you,"  answered  Serlo,  "and  we  can  ar- 
range it.  One  of  them  we  shall  hand  over  to  Elmira,  Old 
Boisterous 's  eldest  daughter :  it  will  all  be  right,  if  they 
look  well  enough ;  and  I  will  deck  and  trim  the  puppets  so 
that  it  shall  be  first-rate  fun  to  behold  them." 

Philina  was  rejoicing  not  a  little,  that  she  had  to  act  the 
Duchess  in  the  small  subordinate  play.  ' '  I  will  show  it  so 
natural,"  cried  she,  "  how  you  wed  a  second  husband,  with- 
out loss  of  time,  when  you  have  loved  the  first  immensely. 
I  mean  to  win  the  loudest  plaudits,  and  every  man  shall 
wish  to  be  the  third." 

Aurelia  gave  a  frown  :  her  spleen  against  Philina  was  in- 
creasing every  day. 

"  'Tis  a  pity,  I  declare,"  said  Serlo,  "that  we  have  no 
ballet ;  else  you  should  dance  me  a  pas  de  deux  with  your 
first,  and  then  another  with  your  second  husband,  —  and  the 
first  might  dance  himself  to  sleep  by  the  measure  ;  and  your 
bits  of  feet  and  ankles  would  look  so  pretty,  tripping  to  and 
fro  upon  the  side  stage." 

"Of  my  ankles  you  do  not  know  much,"  replied  she  pertly ; 
"  and  as  to  my  bits  of  feet,"  cried  she,  hastily  reaching 
below  the  table,  pulling  off  her  slippers,  and  holding  them 
together  out  to  Serlo,  "  here  are  the  cases  of  them ;  and  I 
challenge  you  to  find  me  more  dainty  ones." 

"  I  was  in  earnest,"  said  he,  looking  at  the  elegant  half- 
shoes.  "  In  truth,  one  does  not  often  meet  with  any  thing 
so  dainty." 

They  were  of  Parisian  workmanship  :  Philina  had  received 
them  as  a  present  from  the  countess,  a  lady  whose  foot  was 
celebrated  for  its  beauty. 

"A  charming  thing!"  cried  Serlo:  "my  heart  leaps  at 
the  sight  of  them." 

"  What  gallant  throbs  !  "  replied  Philina. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  beyond  a  pair  of  slippers," 
said  he,  "of  such  pretty  manufacture,  in  their  proper  time 
and  place,  when  "  — 

Philina  took  her  slippers  from  his  hands,  crying,  "  You 
have  squeezed  them  all!  They  are  far  too  wide  for  me!  " 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  271 

She  played  with  them,  and  rubbed  the  soles  of  them  together. 
"How  hot  it  is!"  cried  she,  clapping  the  sole  upon  her 
cheek,  then  again  rubbing,  and  holding  it  to  Serlo.  He  was 
innocent  enough  to  stretch  out  his  hand  to  feel  the  warmth. 
"  Clip  !  clap  !  "  cried  she,  giving  him  a  smart  rap  over  the 
knuckles  with  the  heel ;  so  that  he  screamed,  and  drew  back 
his  hand.  "That's  for  indulging  in  thoughts  of  your  own 
at  the  sight  of  my  slippers." 

"And  that's  for  using  old  folk  like  children,"  cried  the 
other ;  then  sprang  up,  seized  her,  and  plundered  many  a 
kiss,  every  one  of  which  she  artfully  contested  with  a  show 
of  serious  reluctance.  In  this  romping,  her  long  hair  got 
loose,  and  floated  round  the  group ;  the  chair  overset ;  and 
Aurelia,  inwardly  indignant  at  such  rioting,  arose  in  great 
vexation. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THOUGH  in  this  remoulding  of  "  Hamlet "  many  characters 
had  been  cut  off,  a  sufficient  number  of  them  still  remained, 
—  a  number  which  the  company  was  scarcely  adequate  to 
meet. 

"  If  this  is  the  way  of  it,"  said  Serlo,  "  our  prompter  him- 
self must  issue  from  his  den,  and  mount  the  stage,  and 
become  a  personage  like  one  of  us." 

"In  his  own  station,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "I  have  fre- 
quently admired  him." 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  Serlo,  "  that  there  is  in  the  world 
a  more  perfect  artist  of  his  kind.  No  spectator  ever  hears 
him  :  we  upon  the  stage  catch  every  syllable.  He  has  formed 
in  himself,  as  it  were,  a  peculiar  set  of  vocal  organs  for  this 
purpose  :  he  is  like  a  Genius  that  whispers  intelligibly  to  us 
in  the  hour  of  need.  He  feels,  as  if  by  instinct,  what  por- 
tion of  his  task  an  actor  is  completely  master  of,  and  an- 
ticipates from  afar  where  his  memory  will  fail  him.  I  have 
known  cases  in  which  I  myself  had  scarcely  read  my  part : 
he  said  it  over  to  me  word  for  word,  and  I  played  happily. 
Yet  he  has  some  peculiarities  which  would  make  another  in 
his  place  quite  useless.  For  example,  he  takes  such  an  in- 
terest in  the  plays,  that,  in  giving  any  moving  passage,  he 
does  not  indeed  declaim  it,  but  he  reads  it  with  all  pomp  and 


272  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

pathos.  By  this  ill  habit  he  has  nonplussed  me  on  more 
than  one  occasion." 

"  As  with  another  of  his  singularities,"  observed  Aurelia , 
"  he  once  left  me  sticking  fast  in  a  very  dangerous  passage." 

"  How  could  this  happen,  with  the  man's  attentiveness ?  " 
said  Wilhelm. 

"He  is  so  affected,"  said  Aurelia,  "by  certain  passages, 
that  he  weeps  warm  tears,  and  for  a  few  moments  loses  all 
reflection  ;  and  it  is  not  properly  passages  such  as  we  should 
call  affecting  that  produce  this  impression  on  him  ;  but,  if  I 
express  myself  clearly,  the  beautiful  passages,  those  out  of 
which  s  the  pure  spirit  of  the  poet  looks  forth,  as  it  were, 
through  open,  sparkling  eyes,  —  passages  which  others  at 
most  rejoice  over,  and  which  many  thousands  altogether 
overlook." 

"  And  with  a  soul  so  tender,  why  does  he  never  venture 
on  the  stage  ?  ' ' 

"  A  hoarse  voice,"  said  Serlo,  "  and  a  stiff  carriage,  ex- 
clude him  from  it ;  as  his  melancholic  temper  excludes  him 
from  societ}7.  What  trouble  have  I  taken,  and  in  vain,  to 
make  him  take  to  me  !  But  he  is  a  charming  reader ;  such 
another  I  have  never  heard ;  no  one  can  observe  like  him  the 
narrow  limit  between  declamation  and  graceful  recital." 

"  The  very  man  !  "  exclaimed  our  friend,  "  the  very  man  ! 
What  a  fortunate  discovery  !  We  have  now  the  proper  hand 
for  delivering  the  passage  of  '  The  rugged  Pyrrhus.' ' 

"One  requires  your  eagerness,"  said  Serlo,  "before  he 
can  employ  every  object  in  the  use  it  was  meant  for." 

"  In  truth,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  I  was  very  much  afraid  we 
should  be  obliged  to  leave  this  passage  out :  the  omission 
would  have  lamed  the  whole  play." 

"Well!  That  is  what  I  cannot  understand,"  observed 
Aurelia. 

"I  hope  you  will  erelong  be  of  my  opinion,"  answered 
Wilhelm.  "  Shakspeare  has  introduced  these  travelling 
players  with  a  double  purpose.  The  person  who  recites  the 
death  of  Priam  with  such  feeling,  in  the  first  place,  makes  a 
deep  impression  on  the  prince  himself ;  he  sharpens  the  con- 
science of  the  wavering  youth :  and,  accordingly,  this  scene 
becomes  a  prelude  to  that  other,  where,  in  the  second  place, 
the  little  play  produces  such  effect  upon  the  King.  Hamlet 
sees  himself  reproved  and  put  to  shame  by  the  player,  who 
feels  so  deep  a  sympathy  in  foreign  and  fictitious  woes  ;  and 
the  thought  of  making  an  experiment  upon  the  conscience  of 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  273 

his  stepfather  is  in  consequence  suggested  to  him.  What  a 
royal  monologue  is  that,  which  ends  the  second  act !  How 
charming  it  will  be  to  speak  it ! 

"  '  Oh,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I! 
Is  it  not  monstrous  that  this  player  here, 
But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 
Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  own  conceit, 
That,  from  her  working,  all  his  visage  wann'd; 
Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  aspect, 
A  broken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 
With  forms  to  his  conceit  ?  and  all  for  nothing! 
For  Hecuba! 

What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba, 
That  he  should  weep  for  her  ? ' ' 

"If  we  can  but  persuade  our  man  to  come  upon  the  stage," 
observed  Aurelia. 

"  We  must  lead  him  to  it  by  degrees,"  said  Serlo.  "  At 
the  rehearsal  he  may  read  the  passage :  we  shall  tell  him 
that  an  actor  whom  we  are  expecting  is  to  play  it ;  and  so, 
by  and  by,  we  shall  lead  him  nearer  to  the  point." 

Having  agreed  on  this  affair,  the  conversation  next  turned 
upon  the  Ghost.  Wilhelm  could  not  bring  himself  to  give 
the  part  of  the  living  King  to  the  Pedant,  that  so  Old  Bois- 
terous might  play  the  Ghost :  he  was  of  opinion  that  they 
ought  to  wait  a  while ;  because  some  other  actors  had  an- 
nounced themselves,  and  among  these  it  was  probable  they 
would  find  a  fitter  man. 

We  can  easily  conceive,  then,  how  astonished  Wilhelm 
must  have  been  when,  returning  home  that  evening,  he  found 
a  billet  lying  on  his  table,  sealed  with  singular  figures,  and 
containing  what  follows  :  — 

"  Strange  youth !  we  know  thou  art  in  great  perplexity. 
For  thy  Hamlet  thou  canst  hardly  find  men  enough,  not  to 
speak  of  ghosts.  Thy  zeal  deserves  a  miracle  :  miracles  we 
cannot  work,  but  somewhat  marvellous  shall  happen.  If 
thou  have  faith,  the  Ghost  shall  arise  at  the  proper  hour ! 
Be  of  courage  and  keep  firm  !  This  needs  no  answer :  thy 
determination  will  be  known  to  us." 

With  this  curious  sheet  he  hastened  back  to  Serlo,  who 
read  and  re-read  it,  and  at  last  declared,  with  a  thoughtful 
look,  that  it  seemed  a  matter  of  some  moment ;  that  they 
must  consider  well  and  seriously  whether  they  could  risk  it. 
They  talked  the  subject  over  at  some  length  ;  Aurelia  was 
silent,  only  smiling  now  and  then  ;  and  a  few  days  after, 


274  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

when  speaking  of  the  incident  again,  she  gave  our  friend, 
not  obscurely,  to  understand  that  she  held  it  all  a  joke  of 
Serlo's.  She  desired  him  to  cast  away  anxiety,  and  to  expect 
the  Ghost  with  patience. 

Serlo,  for  most  part,  was  in  excellent  humor :  the  actors 
that  were  going  to  leave  him  took  all  possible  pains  to  play 
well,  that  their  absence  might  be  much  regretted  ;  and  this, 
combined  with  the  new-fangled  zeal  of  the  others,  gave 
promise  of  the  best  results. 

His  intei'course  with  Wilhelm  had  not  failed  to  exert  some 
influence  on  him.  He  began  to  speak  more  about  art :  for, 
after  all,  he  was  a  German  ;  and  Germans  like  to  give  them- 
selves account  of  what  they  do.  Wilhelm  wrote  down  many 
of  their  conversations  ;  which,  as  our  narrative  must  not  be 
so  often  interrupted  here,  we  shall  communicate  to  such  of 
our  readers  as  feel  an  interest  in  dramaturgic  matters,  by 
some  other  opportunity. 

In  particular,  one  evening,  the  manager  was  very  merry  in 
speaking  of  the  part  of  Polonius,  and  how  he  meant  to  take 
it  up.  "  I  engage,"  said  he,  "on  this  occasion,  to  present 
a  very  meritorious  person  in  his  best  aspect.  The  repose 
and  security  of  this  old  gentleman,  his  emptiness  and  his 
significance,  his  exterior  gracefulness  and  interior  meanness, 
his  frankness  and  sycophancy,  his  sincere  roguery  and  deceit- 
ful truth,  I  will  introduce  with  all  due  elegance  in  their  fit 
proportions.  This  respectable,  gray-haired,  enduring,  time- 
serving half -knave,  I  will  represent  in  the  most  courtly  style  : 
the  occasional  roughness  and  coarseness  of  our  author's 
strokes  will  further  me  here.  I  will  speak  like  a  book  when 
I  am  prepared  beforehand,  and  like  an  ass  when  I  utter  the 
overflowings  of  my  heart.  I  will  be  insipid  and  absurd 
enough  to  chime  in  with  every  one,  and  acute  enough  never 
to  observe  when  people  make  a  mock  of  me.  I  have  seldom 
taken  up  a  part  with  so  much  zeal  and  roguishness." 

"Could  I  but  hope  as  much  from  mine!"  exclaimed 
Aurelia.  "  I  have  neither  youth  nor  softness  enough  to  be 
at  home  in  this  character.  One  thing  alone  I  am  too  sure 
of,  —  the  feeling  that  turns  Ophelia's  brain,  I  shall  not 
want." 

"  We  must  not  take  the  matter  up  so  strictly,"  said  our 
friend.  "  For  my  share,  I  am  certain,  that  the  wish  to  act 
the  character  of  Hamlet  has  led  me  exceedingly  astray, 
throughout  my  study  of  the  play.  And  now,  the  more  I  look 
into  the  part,  the  more  clearly  do  I  see,  that,  in  my  whole 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  275 

i 

form  and  physiognomy,  there  is  not  one  feature  such  as 
Shakspeare  meant  for  Hamlet.  When  I  consider  with  what 
nicety  the  various  circumstances  are  adapted  to  each  other, 
I  can  scarcely  hope  to  produce  even  a  tolerable  effect. ' ' 

"  You  are  entering  on  your  new  career  with  becoming  con- 
scientiousness," said  Serlo.  "  The  actor  fits  himself  to  his 
part  as  he  can,  and  the  part  to  him  as  it  must.  But  how 
has  Shakspeare  drawn  his  Hamlet?  Is  he  so  utterly  unlike 
you?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "he  is  fair- 
haired." 

"  That  I  call  far-fetched,"  observed  Aurelia.  "  How  do 
you  infer  that  ?  ' ' 

"  As  a  Dane,  as  a  Northman,  he  is  fair-haired  and  blue- 
eyed  by  descent." 

"  And  you  think  Shakspeare  had  this  in  view?  " 

"I  do  not  find  it  specially  expressed ;  but,  by  comparison 
of  passages,  I  think  it  incontestable.  The  fencing  tires  him  ; 
the  sweat  is  running  from  his  brow  ;  and  the  Queen  remarks, 
4  He's  fat,  and  scant  of  breath.'  Can  you  conceive  him  tc  be 
otherwise  than  plump  and  fair-haired  ?  Brown-complexioned 
people,  in  their  j-outh,  are  seldom  plump.  And  does  not  his 
wavering  melancholy,  his  soft  lamenting,  his  irresolute  ac- 
tivity, accord  with  such  a  figure  ?  From  a  dark-haired  young 
man,  you  would  look  for  more  decision  and  impetuosity." 

"You  are  spoiling  my  imagination,"  cried  Aurelia: 
' '  away  with  your  fat  Hamlets !  Do  not  set  your  well-fed 
prince  before  us  !  Give  us  rather  any  succedaneum  that  will 
move  us,  will  delight  us.  The  intention  of  the  author  is  of 
less  importance  to  us  than  our  own  enjoyment,  and  we  need 
a  charm  that  is  adapted  for  us." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ONE  evening  a  dispute  arose  among  our  friends  about  the 
novel  and  the  drama,  and  which  of  them  deserved  the  pref- 
erence. Serlo  said  it  was  a  fruitless  and  misunderstood 
debate :  both  might  be  superior  in  their  kinds,  only  each 
must  keep  within  the  limits  proper  to  it. 


276  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"About  their  limits  and  their  kinds,"  said  Wilhelm,  "I 
confess  myself  not  altogether  clear." 

"  Who  is  so?  "  said  the  other ;  "  and  yet  perhaps  it  were 
worth  while  to  come  a  little  closer  to  the  business." 

They  conversed  together  long  upon  the  matter;  and,  in 
fine,  the  following  was  nearly  the  result  of  their  discussion  :  — 

u  In  the  novel  as  well  as  in  the  drama,  it  is  human  nature 
and  human  action  that  we  see.  The  difference  between  these 
sorts  of  fiction  lies  not  merely  in  their  outward  form,  —  not 
merely  in  the  circumstance  that  the  personages  of  the  one 
are  made  to  speak,  while  those  of  the  other  have  commonly 
their  history  narrated.  Unfortunately  many  dramas  are  but 
novels,  which  proceed  by  dialogue  ;  and  it  would  not  be  im- 
possible to  write  a  drama  in  the  shape  of  letters. 

"  But,  in  the  novel,  it  is  chiefly  sentiments  and  events  that 
are  exhibited ;  in  the  drama,  it  is  characters  and  deeds.  The 
novel  must  go  slowly  forward ;  and  the  sentiments  of  the 
hero,  by  some  means  or  another,  must  restrain  the  tendency 
of  the  whole  to  unfold  itself  and  to  conclude.  The  drama, 
on  the  other  hand,  must  hasten ;  and  the  character  of  the 
hero  must  press  forward  to  the  end :  it  does  not  restrain, 
but  is  restrained.  The  novel-hero  must  be  suffering,  —  at 
least  he  must  not  in  a  high  degree  be  active  :  in  the  dramatic 
one,  we  look  for  activity  and  deeds.  Grandison,  Clarissa, 
Pamela,  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  Tom  Jones  himself,  are,  if 
not  suffering,  at  least  retarding,  personages ;  and  the  inci- 
dents are  all  in  some  sort  modelled  by  their  sentiments.  In 
the  drama  the  hero  models  nothing  by  himself ;  all  things 
withstand  him ;  and  he  clears  and  casts  away  the  hinderances 
from  off  his  path,  or  else  sinks  under  them." 

Our  friends  were  also  of  opinion,  that,  in  the  novel,  some 
degree  of  scope  may  be  allowed  to  Chance,  but  that  it  must 
always  be  led  and  guided  by  the  sentiments  of  the  personages : 
on  the  other  hand,  that  Fate,  which,  by  means  of  outward, 
unconnected  circumstances,  carries  forward  men,  without 
their  own  concurrence,  to  an  unforeseen  catastrophe,  can 
have  place  only  in  the  drama;  that  Chance  may  produce 
pathetic  situations,  but  never  tragic  ones ;  Fate,  on  the 
other  hand,  ought  always  to  be  terrible,  —  and  is,  in  the 
highest  sense,  tragic,  when  it  brings  into  a  ruinous  concate- 
nation the  guilty  man,  and  the  guiltless  that  was  unconcerned 
with  him. 

These  considerations  led  them  back  to  the  play  of  "  Ham- 
let," and  the  peculiarities  of  its  composition.  The  hero  in 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  277 

this  case,  it  was  observed,  is  endowed  more  properly  with 
sentiments  than  with  a  character:  it  is  events  alone  that 
push  him  on,  and  accordingly  the  play  has  in  some  measure 
the  expansion  of  a  novel.  But  as  it  is  Fate  that  draws  the 
plan,  as  the  story  issues  from  a  deed  of  terror,  and  the  hero 
is  continually  driven  forward  to  a  deed  of  terror,  the  work  is 
tragic  in  the  highest  sense,  and  admits  of  no  other  than 
a  tragic  end. 

The  book-rehearsal  was  now  to  take  place,  to  which  Wil- 
helm  had  looked  forward  as  to  a  festival.  Having  previously 
collated  all  the  parts,  no  obstacle  on  this  side  could  oppose 
him.  The  whole  of  the  actors  were  acquainted  with  the 
piece  :  he  endeavored  to  impress  their  minds  with  the  impor- 
tance of  these  book-rehearsals.  "As  you  require,"  said  he, 
"of  every  musical  performer,  that  he  shall,  in  some  degree, 
be  able  to  play  from  the  book :  so  every  actor,  every  edu- 
cated man,  should  train  himself  to  recite  from  the  book,  to 
catch  immediately  the  character  of  any  drama,  any  poem, 
any  tale  he  may  be  reading,  and  exhibit  it  with  grace  and 
readiness.  No  committing  to  memory  will  be  of  service,  if 
the  actor  have  not,  in  the  first  place,  penetrated  into  the 
sense  and  spirit  of  his  author :  the  mere  letter  will  avail  him 
nothing." 

Serlo  declared  that  he  would  overlook  all  subsequent  re- 
hearsals,—  the  last  rehearsal  itself,  —  if  justice  were  but 
done  to  these  rehearsals  from  the  book.  "  For,  commonly," 
said  he,  "there  is  nothing  more  amusing  than  to  hear  an 
actor  speak  of  study :  it  is  as  if  freemasons  were  to  talk  of 
building." 

The  rehearsal  passed  according  to  their  wishes ;  and  we 
may  assert,  that  the  fame  and  favor  which  our  company 
acquired  afterwards  had  their  foundation  in  these  few  but 
well-spent  horn's. 

"  You  did  right,  my  friend,"  said  Serlo,  when  they  were 
alone,  "  in  speaking  to  our  fellow-laborers  so  earnestly  ;  and 
yet  I  am  afraid  they  will  scarcely  fulfil  your  wishes." 

"  How  so?  "  asked  Wilhelm. 

"  I  have  noticed,"  answered  Serlo,  "  that,  as  easily  as 
you  may  set  in  motion  the  imaginations  of  men,  gladly  as 
they  listen  to  your  tales  and  fictions,  it  is  yet  ver}r  seldom 
that  you  find  among  them  any  touch  of  an  imagination  you 
can  call  productive.  In  actors  this  remark  is  strikingly 
exemplified.  Any  one  of  them  is  well  content  to  undertake 
a  beautiful,  praiseworthy,  brilliant  part ;  and  seldom  will  any 


278  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

one  of  them  do  more  than  self-complacently  transport  himself 
into  his  hero's  place,  without  in  the  smallest  troubling  his 
head  whether  other  people  view  him  so  or  not.  But  to  seize 
with  vivacity  what  the  author's  feeling  was  in  writing ;  what 
portion  of  your  individual  qualities  you  must  cast  off,  in  order 
to  do  justice  to  a  part ;  how,  by  your  own  conviction  that  you 
are  become  another  man,  you  may  carry  with  you  the  convic- 
tions of  the  audience  ;  how,  by  the  inward  truth  of  your  con- 
ceptive  power,  you  can  change  these  boards  into  a  temple, 
this  pasteboard  into  woods,  —  to  seize  and  execute  all  this, 
is  given  to  very  few.  That  internal  strength  of  soul,  by 
which  alone  deception  can  be  brought  about;  that  lying 
truth,  without  which  nothing  will  affect  us  rightly,  —  have, 
by  most  men,  never  even  been  imagined. 

"  Let  us  not,  then,  press  too  hard  for  spirit  and  feeling  in 
our  friends.  The  surest  way  is  first  coolly  to  instruct  them 
in  the  sense  and  letter  of  the  play, — if  possible,  to  open  their 
understandings.  Whoever  has  the  talent  will  then,  of  his 
own  accord,  eagerly  adopt  the  spirited  feeling  and  manner 
of  expression ;  and  those  who  have  it  not  will  at  least  be 
prevented  from  acting  or  reciting  altogether  falsely.  Arid 
among  actors,  as  indeed  in  all  cases,  there  is  no  worse  arrange- 
ment than  for  any  one  to  make  pretensions  to  the  spirit  of  a 
thing,  while  the  sense  and  letter  of  it  are  not  ready  and  clear 
to  him." 


CHAPTER 

COMING  to  the  first  stage-rehearsal  very  early,  "Wilhelm 
found  himself  alone  upon  the  boards.  The  appearance  of 
the  place  surprised  him,  and  awoke  the  strangest  recollec- 
tions. A  forest  and  village  scene  stood  exactly  represented 
as  he  once  had  seen  it  in  the  theatre  of  his  native  town.  On 
that  occasion  also,  a  rehearsal  was  proceeding ;  and  it  was 
the  morning  when  Mariana  first  confessed  her  love  to  him, 
and  promised  him  a  happy  interview.  The  peasants'  cottages 
resembled  one  another  on  the  two  stages,  as  they  did  in 
nature  :  the  true  morning  sun,  beaming  through  a  half-closed 
window-shutter,  fell  upon  a  part  of  a  bench  ill  joined  to  a 
cottage  door ;  but  unhappily  it  did  not  now  enlighten  Mari- 
ana's waist  and  bosom.  He  sat  down,  reflecting  on  this 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  279 

strange  coincidence :  he  almost  thought  that  perhaps  ou  this 
very  spot  he  would  soon  see  her  again.  And,  alas  !  the  truth 
was  nothing  more,  than  that  an  afterpiece,  to  which  this 
scene  belonged,  was  at  that  tune  very  often  played  upon  the 
German  stage. 

Out  of  these  meditations  he  was  roused  by  the  other  actors, 
along  with  whom  two  amateurs,  frequenters  of  the  wardrobe 
and  the  stage,  came  in,  and  saluted  Wilhelm  with  a  show  of 
great  enthusiasm.  One  of  these  was  in  some  degree  attached 
to  Frau  Melina,  but  the  other  was  entirely  a  lover  of  the  art, 
and  both  were  of  the  kind  which  a  good  company  should 
always  wish  to  have  about  it.  It  was  difficult  to  say  whether 
their  love  for  the  stage,  or  their  knowledge  of  it,  was  the 
greater.  They  loved  it  too  much  to  know  it  perfectly  :  they 
knew  it  well  enough  to  prize  the  good  and  to  discard  the 
bad.  But,  their  inclination  being  so  powerful,  they  could 
tolerate  the  mediocre  ;  and  the  glorious  joy  which  they  expe- 
rienced from  the  foretaste  and  the  aftertaste  of  excellence 
surpassed  expression.  The  mechanical  department  gave 
them  pleasure,  the  intellectual  charmed  them ;  and  so  strong 
was  their  susceptibility,  that  even  a  discontinuous  rehearsal 
afforded  them  a  species  of  illusion.  Deficiencies  appeared  in 
their  eyes  to  fade  away  in  distance  :  the  successful  touched 
them  like  an  object  near  at  hand.  In  a  word,  they  were 
judges  such  as  every  artist  wishes  in  his  own  department. 
Their  favorite  movement  was  from  the  side-scenes  to  the  pit, 
and  from  the  pit  to  the  side-scenes  ;  their  happiest  place  was 
in  the  wardrobe  ;  their  busiest  employment  was  in  trying  to 
improve  the  dress,  position,  recitation,  gesture,  of  the  actor ; 
their  liveliest  conversation  was  on*  the  effect  produced  by 
him ;  their  most  constant  effort  was  to  keep  him  accurate, 
active,  and  attentive,  to  do  him  service  or  kindness,  and, 
without  squandering,  to  procure  for  the  company  a  series  of 
enjoyments.  The  two  had  obtained  the  exclusive  privilege 
of  being  present  on  the  stage  at  rehearsals  as  well  as  exhi-: 
bitions.  In  regard  to  "  Hamlet,"  they  had  not  in  all  points 
agreed  with  Wilhelm :  here  and  there  he  had  yielded ;  but, 
for  most  part,  he  had  stood  by  his  opinion :  and,  upon  the 
whole,  these  discussions  had  been  very  useful  in  the  forming 
of  his  taste.  He  showed  both  gentlemen  how  much  he  valued 
them  ;  and  they  again  predicted  nothing  less,  from  these  comr 
bined  endeavors,  than  a  new  epoch  for  the  German  theatre. 

The  presence  of  these  persons  was  of  great  service  during 
the  rehearsals.  In  particular  they  labored  to  convince  our 


280  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

players,  that,  throughout  the  whole  of  their  preparations,  the 
posture  and  action,  as  they  were  intended  ultimately  to 
appear,  should  always  be  combined  with  the  words,  and  thus 
the  whole  be  mechanically  united  by  habit.  In  rehearsing  a 
tragedy  especially,  they  said,  no  common  movement  with  the 
hands  should  be  allowed :  a  tragic  actor  that  took  snuff  in 
the  rehearsal  always  frightened  them ;  for,  in  all  probability, 
on  coming  to  the  same  passage  in  the  exhibition,  he  would 
miss  his  pinch.  Nay,  on  the  same  principles,  they  main- 
tained that  no  one  should  rehearse  in  boots,  if  his  part  were 
to  be  played  in  shoes.  But  nothing,  they  declared,  afflicted 
them  so  much  as  when  the  women,  in  rehearsing,  stuck  their 
hands  into  the  folds  of  their  gowns. 

By  the  persuasion  of  our  friends,  another  very  good  effect 
was  brought  about :  the  actors  all  began  to  learn  the  use  of 
arms.  Since  military  parts  occur  so  frequently,  said  they, 
can  any  thing  look  more  absurd  than  men,  without  the  small- 
est particle  of  discipline,  trolling  about  the  stage  in  captains' 
and  majors'  uniforms  ? 

Wilhelm  and  Laertes  were  the  first  that  took  lessons  of  a 
subaltern :  they  continued  their  practising  of  fence  with  the 
greatest  zeal. 

Such  pains  did  these  two  men  take  for  perfecting  a  com- 
pany which  had  so  fortunately  come  together.  They  were 
thus  providing  for  the  future  satisfaction  of  the  public,  while 
the  public  was  usually  laughing  at  their  taste.  People  did  not 
know  what  gratitude  they  owed  our  friends,  particularly  for 
performing  one  service, — the  service  of  frequently  impress- 
ing on  the  actor  the  fundamental  point,  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  speak  so  loud  as  to  b&  heard.  In  this  simple  matter,  they 
experienced  more  opposition  and  repugnance  than  could  have 
been  expected.  Most  part  maintained  that  they  were  heard 
well  enough  already  ;  some  laid  the  blame  upon  the  building ; 
others  said,  one  could  not  yell  and  bellow,  when  one  had  to 
speak  naturally,  secretly,  or  tenderly. 

Our  two  friends,  having  an  immeasurable  stock  of  patience, 
tried  every  means  of  undoing  this  delusion,  of  getting  round 
this  obstinate  self-will.  The}r  spared  neither  arguments  nor 
flatteries  ;  and  at  last  they  reached  their  object,  being  aided 
not  a  little  by  the  good  example  of  Wilhelm.  By  him  they 
were  requested  to  sit  down  in  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
house,  and,  every  time  they  did  not  hear  him  perfectly,  to  rap 
on  the  bench  with  a  key.  He  articulated  well,  spoke  out  in 
a  measured  manner,  raised  his  tones  gradually,  and  did  not 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  281 

overcry  himself  in  the  most  vehement  passages.  The  rap- 
ping of  the  key  was  heard  less  and  less  every  new  rehearsal : 
by  and  by  the  rest  submitted  to  the  same  operation,  and  at 
last  it  seemed  rational  to  hope  that  the  piece  would  be  heard 
by  every  one  in  all  the  nooks  of  the  house. 

From  this  example  we  may  see  how  desirous  people  are  to 
reach  their  object  in  their  own  way ;  what  need  there  often  is 
of  enforcing  on  them  truths  which  are  self-evident ;  and  how 
difficult  it  may  be  to  reduce  the  man  who  aims  at  effecting 
something  to  admit  the  primary  conditions  under  which 
alone  his  enterprise  is  possible. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  necessary  preparations  for  scenery  and  dresses,  and 
whatever  else  was  requisite,  were  now  proceeding.  In  regard 
to  certain  scenes  and  passages,  our  friend  had  whims  of  his 
own,  which  Serlo  humored,  partly  in  consideration  of  their 
bargain,  partly  from  conviction,  and  because  he  hoped  by 
these  civilities  to  gain  Wilhelm,  and  to  lead  him  according  to 
his  own  purposes  the  more  implicitly  in  time  to  come. 

Thus,  for  example,  the  King  and  Queen  were,  at  the  first 
audience,  to  appear  sitting  on  the  throne,  with  the  courtiers 
at  the  sides,  and  Hamlet  standing  undistinguished  in  the 
crowd.  "Hamlet,"  said  he,  "must  keep  himself  quiet: 
his  sable  dress  will  sufficiently  point  him  out.  He  should 
rather  shun  remark  than  seek  it.  Not  till  the  audience  is 
ended,  and  the  King  speaks  with  him  as  with  a  son,  should 
he  advance,  and  allow  the  scene  to  take  its  course." 

A  formidable  obstacle  still  remained,  in  regard  to  the  two 
pictures  which  Hamlet  so  passionately  refers  to  in  the  scene 
with  his  mother.  "  We  ought,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  to  have 
both  of  them  visible,  at  full  length,  in  the  bottom  of  the 
chamber,  near  the  main  door ;  and  the  former  king  must  be 
clad  in  armor,  like  the  Ghost,  and  hang  at  the  side  where  it 
enters.  I  could  wish  that  the  figure  held  its  right  hand  in  a 
commanding  attitude,  were  somewhat  turned  away,  and,  as 
it  were,  looked  over  its  shoulder,  that  so  it  might  perfectly 
resemble  the  Ghost  at  the  moment  when  he  issues  from  the 
door.  It  will  produce  a  great  effect,  when  at  this  instant 


282  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

Hamlet  looks  upon  the  Ghost,  and  the  Queen  upon  the  pic- 
ture. The  stepfather  may  be  painted  in  royal  ornaments, 
but  not  so  striking." 

There  were  several  other  points  of  this  sort,  about  which 
we  shall,  perhaps,  elsewhere  have  opportunity  to  speak. 

"  Are  you,  then,  inexorably  bent  on  Hamlet's  dying  at 
the  end?"  inquired  Serlo. 

"  How  can  I  keep  him  alive, ".said  Wilhelm,  "  when  the 
whole  play  is  pressing  him  to  death?  We  have  already 
talked  at  large  on  that  matter." 

"  But  the  public  wishes  him  to  live." 

"  I  will  show  the  public  any  other  complaisance  ;  but,  as 
to  this,  I  cannot.  We  often  wish  that  some  gallant,  useful 
man,  who  is  dying  of  a  chronical  disease,  might  yet  live 
longer.  The  family  weep,  and  conjure  the  physician  ;  but  he 
cannot  stay  him  :  and  no  more  than  this  physician  can  with- 
stand the  necessity  of  nature,  can  we  give  law  to  an  acknowl- 
edged necessity  of  art.  It  is  a  false  compliance  with  the 
multitude,  to  raise  in  them  emotions  which  they  wish,  when 
these  are  not  emotions  which  they  ought,  to  feel." 

"  Whoever  pays  the  cash,"  said  Serlo,  "  may  require  the 
ware  according  to  his  liking." 

"Doubtless,  in  some  degree,"  replied  our  friend ;  "but 
a  great  public  should  be  reverenced,  not  used  as  children 
are,  when  pedlers  wish  to  hook  the  mone}^  from  them.  By 
presenting  excellence  to  the  people,  you  should  gradually 
excite  in  them  a  taste  and  feeling  for  the  excellent ;  and 
they  will  pay  their  money  with  double  satisfaction  when 
reason  itself  has  nothing  to  object  against  this  outlay.  The 
public  you  may  flatter,  as  you  do  a  well-beloved  child,  to 
better,  to  enlighten,  it ;  not  as  you  do  a  pampered  child  of 
quality,  to  perpetuate  the  error  you  profit  from." 

In  this  manner  various  other  topics  were  discussed  relat- 
ing to  the  question,  What  might  still  be  changed  in  the  play, 
and  what  must  of  necessity  remain  untouched?  We  shall 
not  enter  farther  on  those  points  at  present ;  but,  perhaps, 
at  some  future  time  we  may  submit  this  altered  "  Hamlet  " 
itself  to  such  of  our  readers  as  feel  any  interest  in  the 
subject. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  283 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  main  rehearsal  was  at  length  concluded :  it  had  lasted 
very  long.  Serlo  and  Wilhelm  still  found  much  to  care  for : 
notwithstanding  all  the  time  which  had  already  been  con- 
sumed in  preparation,  some  highly  necessary  matters  had  been 
left  to  the  very  last  moment. 

Thus,  the  pictures  of  the  kings,  for  instance,  were  not  ready  : 
and  the  scene  between  Hamlet  and  his  mother,  from  which 
so  powerful  an  effect  was  looked  for,  had  a  very  helpless 
aspect,  as  the  business  stood  ;  for  neither  Ghost  nor  painted 
image  of  him  was  at  present  forthcoming.  Serlo  made  a 
jest  of  this  perplexity :  "  We  should  be  in  a  pretty  scrape," 
said  he,  "  if  the  Ghost  were  to  decline  appearing,  and  the 
guard  had  nothing  to  fight  with  but  the  air,  and  our  prompter 
were  obliged  to  speak  the  spirit's  part  from  the  side-scenes." 

"  We  will  not  scare  away  our  strange  friend  by  unbelief," 
said  Wilhelm :  "doubtless  at  the  proper  season  he  will  come, 
and  astonish  us  as  much  as  the  spectators." 

"Well,  certainly,"  said  Serlo,  "I  shall  be  a  happy  man 
to-morrow  night,  when  once  the  play  will  have  been  acted. 
It  costs  us  more  arrangement  than  I  dreamed  of." 

"But  none  of  you,"  exclaimed  Philina,  "will  be  happier 
than  I,  little  as  my  part  disturbs  me.  Really,  to  hear  a 
single  subject  talked  of  forever  and  forever,  when,  after  all, 
there  is  nothing  to  come  of  it  beyond  an  exhibition,  which 
will  be  forgotten  like  so  many  hundred  others,  this  is  what  I 
have  not  patience  for.  In  Heaven's  name,  not  so  many  pros 
and  cons  /  The  guests  you  entertain  have  always  something 
to  object  against  the  dinner ;  nay,  if  you  could  hear  them 
talk  of  it  at  home,  they  cannot  understand  how  it  was  possible 
to  undergo  so  sad  a  business." 

"Let  me  turn  your  illustration,  pretty  one,  to  my  own 
advantage,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  Consider  how  much  must 
be  done  by  art  and  nature,  by  traffickers  and  tradesmen,  be- 
fore an  entertainment  can  be  given.  How  many  }7ears  the 
stag  must  wander  in  the  forest,  the  fish  in  the  river  or  the 
sea,  before  they  can  deserve  to  grace  our  table  !  And  what 
cares  and  consultations  with  her  cooks  and  servants  has  the 
lady  of  the  house  submitted  to  !  Observe  with  what  indiffer- 
ence the  people  swallow  the  production  of  the  distant  vin- 
tager, the  seaman,  and  the  vintner,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of 
course.  And  ought  these  men  to  cease  from  laboring,  pro- 


284  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

viding,  and  preparing ;  ought  the  master  of  the  house  to 
cease  from  purchasing  and  laying  up  the  fruit  of  their  exer- 
tions,— because  at  last  the  enjoyment  it  affords  is  transitory' 
But  no  enjoyment  can  be  transitory  ;  the  impression  which  it 
leaves  is  permanent:  and  what  is  done  with  diligence  and 
effort  communicates  to  the  spectator  a  hidden  force,  of  which 
we  cannot  say  how  far  its  influence  may  reach." 

"  'Tis  all  one  to  me,"  replied  Philina :  "  only  here  again  I 
must  observe,. that  you  men  are  constantly  at  variance  with 
yourselves.  With  all  this  conscientious  horror  at  curtailing 
Shakspeare,  you  have  missed  the  finest  thought  there  was  in 
'Hamlet'!" 

"  The  finest?  "  cried  our  friend. 

"  Certainly  the  finest,"  said  Philina :  "  the  prince  himself 
takes  pleasure  in  it." 

"  And  it  is  ?  "  inquired  Serlo. 

"  If  you  wore  a  wig,"  replied  Philina,  "  I  would  pluck  it 
very  coolly  off  you ;  for  I  think  you  need  to  have  your  under- 
standing opened." 

The  rest  began  to  think  what  she  could  mean  :  the  conver- 
sation paused.  The  party  arose  ;  it  was  now  grown  late ; 
they  seemed  about  to  separate.  While  they  were  standing  in 
this  undetermined  mood,  Philina  all  at  once  struck  up  a  song, 
with  a  very  graceful,  pleasing  tune  :  — 

"  Sing  me  not  with  such  emotion, 
How  the  night  so  lonesome  is : 
Pretty  maids,  I've  got  a  notion 
It  is  the  reverse  of  this. 

For  as  wife  and  man  are  plighted, 

And  the  better  half  the  wife ; 
So  is  night  to  day  united : 

Night's  the  better  half  of  life. 

Can  you  joy  in  bustling  daytime, 

Day  when  none  can  get  his  will? 
It  is  good  for  work,  for  haytime ; 

For  much  other  it  is  ill. 

But  when,  in  the  nightly  glooming, 

Social  lamp  on  table  glows, 
Face  for  faces  dear  illuming, 

And  such  jest  and  joyance  go.es; 

When  the  fiery,  pert  young  fellow, 

Wont  by  day  to  run  or  ride, 
Whispering  now  some  tale  would  tell  O, 

All  so  gentle  by  your  side ; 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  285 

When  the  nightingale  to  lovers 

Lovingly  her  songlet  sings, 
Which  for  exiles  and  sad  rovers 

Like  mere  woe  and  wailing  rings,  — 

With  a  heart  how  lightsome  feeling, 

Dp  ye  count  the  kindly  clock, 
Which  twelve  times  deliberate  pealing, 

Tells  you  none  to-night  shall  knock! 

Therefore,  on  all  fit  occasions, 

Mark  it,  maidens,  what.I  sing: 
Every  day  its  own  vexations, 

And  the  night  its  joys,  will  bring." 

She  made  a  slight  courtesy  on  concluding,  and  Serlo  gave 
a  loud  "  Bravo  !  "  She  scuttled  off,  and  left  the  room  with  a 
teehee  of  laughter.  They  heard  her  singing  and  skipping  as 
she  went  down-stairs. 

Serlo  passed  into  another  room :  Wilhelm  bade  Aurelia 
good-night ;  but  she  continued  looking  at  him  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  said,  — 

"  How  I  dislike  that  woman  !  Dislike  her  from  my  heart, 
and  to  her  very  slightest  qualities  !  Those  brown  eyelashes, 
with  her  fair  hair,  which  our  brother  thinks  so  charming,  I 
cannot  bear  to  look  at ;  and  that  scar  upon  her  brow  has 
something  in  it  so  repulsive,  so  low  and  base,  that  I  could 
recoil  ten  paces  every  time  I  meet  her.  She  was  lately  telling 
as  a  joke,  that  her  father,  when  she  was  a  child,  threw  a  plate 
at  her  head,  of  which  this  is  the  mark.  It  is  well  that  she  is 
marked  in  the  eyes  and  brow,  that  those  about  her  may  be 
on  their  guard." 

Wilhelm  made  no  answer ;  and  Aurelia  went  on,  apparently 
with  greater  spleen,  — 

"It  is  next  to  impossible  for  me  to  speak  a  kind,  civil 
word  to  her,  so  deeply  do  I  hate  her,  with  all  her  wheedling. 
Would  that  we  were  rid  of  her!  And  you,  too,  my  friend, 
have  a  certain  complaisance  for  the  creature,  a  way  of  acting 
towards  her,  that  grieves  me  to  the  soul,  —  an  attention  which 
borders  on  respect ;  which,  by  Heaven  !  she  does  not  merit." 

"Whatever  she  may  be,"  replied  our  friend,  "  I  owe  her 
thanks.  Her  upbringing  is  to  blame  :  to  her  natural  charac- 
ter I  would  do  justice." 

"Character!"  exclaimed  Aurelia;  "and  do  you  think 
such  a  creature  has  a  character?  0  you  men  !  It  is  so  like 
you  !  These  are  the  women  you  deserve  !  ' ' 


286  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"My  friend,  can  you  suspect  me?"  answered  Wilhelm. 
"I  will  give  account  of  every  minute  I  have  spent  beside 
her." 

"Come,  come,"  replied  Aurelia :  "it  is  late,  we  will  not 
quarrel.  All  like  each,  and  each  like  all !  Good-night,  my 
friend  !  Good-night,  my  sparkling  bird-of-paradise  !  " 

Wilhelm  asked  how  he  had  earned  this  title. 

"  Another  time,"  cried  she  ;  "  another  time.  They  say  it 
has  no  feet,  but  hovers  in  the  air,  and  lives  on  ether.  That, 
however,  is  a  story,  a  poetic  fiction.  Good-night !  Dream 
sweetly,  if  you  are  in  luck  !  " 

She  proceeded  to  her  room  ;  and  he,  being  left  alone,  made 
haste  to  his. 

Half  angrily  he  walked  along  his  chamber  to  and  fro.  The 
jesting  but  decided  tone  of  Aurelia  had  hurt  him :  he  felt 
deeply  how  unjust  she  was.  Could  he  treat  Philina  with  un- 
kindness  or  ill-nature  ?  She  had  done  no  evil  to  him  ;  but, 
for  any  love  to  her,  he  could  proudly  and  confidently  take  his 
conscience  to  witness  that  it  was  not  so. 

On  the  point  of  beginning  to  undress,  he  was  going  for- 
ward to  his  bed  to  draw  aside  the  curtains,  when,  not  with- 
out extreme  astonishment,  he  saw  a  pair  of  women's  slippers 
lying  on  the  floor  before  it.  One  of  them  was  resting  on  its 
sole,  the  other  on  its  edge.  They  were  Philina's  slippers : 
he  recognized  them  but  too  well.  He  thought  he  noticed  some 
disorder  in  the  curtains ;  nay,  it  seemed  as  if  they  moved. 
He  stood,  and  looked  with  unaverted  eyes. 

A  new  impulse,  which  he  took  for  anger,  cut  his  breath : 
after  a  short  pause,  he  recovered,  and  cried  in  a  firm  tone,  — 

' '  Come  out,  Philina  !  What  do  you  mean  by  this  ?  Where 
is  your  sense,  your  modesty  ?  Are  we  to  be  the  speech  of  the 
house  to-morrow?  " 

Nothing  stirred. 

"  I  do  not  jest,"  continued  he  :  "  these  pranks  are  little 
to  my  taste." 

No  sound  !     No  motion  ! 

Irritated  and  determined,  he  at  last  went  forward  to  the 
bed,  and  tore  the  curtains  asunder.  "Arise,"  said  he,  "  if 
I  am  not  to  give  you  up  my  room  to-night. ' ' 

With  great  surprise,  he  found  his  bed  unoccupied ;  the 
sheets  and  pillows  in  the  sleekest  rest.  He  looked  around  : 
he  searched  and  searched,  but  found  no  traces  of  the  rouge. 
Behind  the  bed,  the  stove,  the  drawers,  there  was  nothing 
to  be  seen :  he  sought  with  great  and  greater  diligence ;  a 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  287 

spiteful  looker-on  might  have  believed  that  he  was  seeking 
in  the  hope  of  finding. 

All  thought  of  sleep  was  gone.  He  put  the  slippers  on 
his  table ;  went  past  it,  up  and  down  ;  often  paused  before 
it ;  and  a  wicked  sprite  that  watched  him  has  asserted  that 
our  friend  emplo3-ed  himself  for  several  hours  about  these 
dainty  little  shoes ;  that  he  viewed  them  with  a  certain  in- 
terest ;  that  he  handled  them  and  played  with  them ;  and  it 
was  not  till  towards  morning  that  he  threw  himself  on  the  bed, 
without  undressing,  where  he  fell  asleep  amidst  a  world  of 
curious  fantasies. 

He  was  still  slumbering,  when  Serlo  entered  hastily. 
"  Where  are  you?  "  cried  he :  "  still  in  bed?  Impossible  !  I 
want  you  in  the  theatre :  we  have  a  thousand  things  to  do." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  forenoon  and  the  afternoon  fled  rapidly  away.  The 
playhouse  was  already  full :  our  friend  hastened  to  dress. 
It  was  not  with  the  joy  which  it  had  given  him  when  he  first 
essayed  it,  that  he  now  put  on  the  garb  of  Hamlet :  he 
only  dressed  that  he  might  be  in  readiness.  On  his  joining 
the  women  in  the  stage-room,  they  unanimously  cried  that 
nothing  sat  upon  him  right ;  the  fine  feather  stood  awry ; 
the  buckle  of  his  belt  did  pot  fit :  they  began  to  slit,  to  sew, 
and  piece  together.  The  music  started :  Philina  still  ob- 
jected somewhat  to  his  ruff  ;  Aurelia  had  much  to  say  against 
his  mantle.  "Leave  me  alone,  good  people,"  cried  he: 
"  this  negligence  will  make  me  liker  Hamlet."  The  women 
would  not  let  him  go,  but  continued  trimming  him.  The 
music  ceased  :  the  acting  was  begun.  He  looked  at  himself 
in  the  glass,  pressed  his  hat  closer  down  upon  his  face,  and 
retouched  the  painting  of  his  cheeks. 

At  this  instant  somebody  came  rushing  in,  and  cried, 
"The  Ghost!  the  Ghost!" 

Wilhelm  had  not  once  had  time  all  day  to  think  of  the 
Ghost,  and  whether  it  would  come  or  not.  His  anxiety  on 
that  head  was  at  length  removed,  and  now  some  strange 
assistant  was  to  be  expected.  The  stage-manager  came  in, 
inquiring  after  various  matters :  Wilhelm  had  not  time  to 


288  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ask  about  the  Ghost ;  he  hastened  to  present  himself  before 
the  throne,  where  King  and  Queen,  surrounded  with  their 
court,  were  already  glancing  in  all  the  splendors  of  royalty, 
and  waiting  till  the  scene  in  front  of  them  should  be  con- 
cluded. He  caught  the  last  words  of  Horatio,  who  was 
speaking  of  the  Ghost,  in  extreme  confusion,  and  seemed  to 
have  almost  forgotten  his  part. 

The  intermediate  curtain  went  aloft,  and  Hamlet  saw  the 
crowded  house  before  him.  Horatio,  having  spoken  his 
address,  and  been  dismissed  by  the  King,  pressed  through 
to  Hamlet ;  and,  as  if  presenting  himself  to  the  Prince,  he 
said,  "  The  Devil  is  in  harness :  he  has  put  us  all  in  fright." 

In  the  mean  while,  two  men  of  large  stature,  in  white 
cloaks  and  capouches,  were  observed  standing  in  the  side- 
scenes.  Our  friend,  in  the  distraction,  embarrassment,  and 
hurry  of  the  moment,  had  failed  in  the  first  soliloquy ;  at 
least,  such  was  his  own  opinion,  though  loud  plaudits  had 
attended  his  exit.  Accordingly,  he  made  his  next  entrance 
in  no  pleasant  mood,  with  the  dreary  wintry  feeling  of  dra- 
matic condemnation.  Yet  he  girded  up  his  mind,  and  spoke 
that  appropriate  passage  on  the  "rouse  and  wassail,"  the 
"  heavy-headed  revel"  of  the  Danes,  with  suitable  indiffer- 
ence ;  he  had,  like  the  audience,  in  thinking  of  it,  quite 
forgotten  the  Ghost ;  and  he  started,  in  real  terror,  when 
Horatio  cried  out,  "  Look,  my  lord  !  it  comes  !  "  He  whirled 
violently  round ;  and  the  tall,  noble  figure,  the  low,  inaudible 
tread,  the  light  movement  in  the  heavy-looking  armor,  made 
such  an  impression  on  him,  that  he  stood  as  if  transformed 
to  stone,  and  could  utter  only  in  .a  half -voice  h'is  "Angels 
and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us !  "  He  glared  at  the  form, 
drew  a  deep  breathing  once  or  twice,  and  pronounced  his 
address  to  the  Ghost  in  a  manner  so  confused,  so  broken,  so 
constrained,  that  the  highest  art  could  not  have  hit  the  mark 
so  well. 

His  translation  of  this  passage  now  stood  him  in  good 
stead.  He  had  kept  very  close  to  the  original,  in  which  the 
arrangement  of  the  words  appeared  to  him  expressive  of  a 
mind  confounded,  terrified,  and  seized  with  horror :  — 

" '  Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd, 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked,  or  charitable, 
Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape, 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee:  I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 
King,  father,  royal  Dane:  oh,  answer  me!"1 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  289 

A  deep  effect  was  visible  in  the  audience.  The  Ghost  beck- 
oned, the  Prince  followed  him  amid  the  loudest  plaudits. 

The  scene  changed :  and,  when  the  two  had  re-appeared, 
the  Ghost,  on  a  sudden,  stopped,  and  turned  round ;  by 
which  means  Hamlet  came  to  be  a  little  too  close  upon  it. 
With  a  longing  curiosity,  he  looked  in  at  the  lowered  visor ; 
but  except  two  deep-lying  eyes,  and  a  well-formed  nose,  he 
could  discern  nothing.  Gazing  timidly,  he  stood  before  the 
Ghost ;  but  when  the  first  tones  issued  from  the  helmet,  and 
a  somewhat  hoarse,  yet  deep  and  penetrating,  voice,  pro- 
nounced the  words,  "I  am  thy  father's  spirit,"  Wilhelm, 
shuddering,  started  back  some  paces  ;  and  the  audience  shud- 
dered with  him.  Each  imagined  that  he  knew  the  voice : 
Wilhelm  thought  he  noticed  in  it  some  resemblance  to  his 
father's.  These  strange  emotions  and  remembrances,  the 
curiosity  he  felt  about  discovering  his  secret  friend,  the 
anxiety  about  offending  him,  even  the  theatric  impropriety 
of  coming  too  near  him  in  the  present  situation,  all  this 
affected  Wilhelm  with  powerful  and  conflicting  impulses. 
During  the  long  speech  of  the  Ghost,  he  changed  his  place 
so  frequently,  he  seemed  so  unsettled  and  perplexed,  so 
attentive  and  so  absent-minded,  that  his  acting  caused  a 
universal  admiration,  as  the  Spirit  caused  a  universal  horror. 
The  latter  spoke  with  a  feeling  of  melancholy  anger,  rather 
than  of  sorrow ;  but  of  an  anger  spiritual,  slow,  and  inex- 
haustible. It  was  the  mistemper  of  a  noble  soul,  that  is  sev- 
ered from  all  earthly  things,  and  yet  devoted  to  unbounded 
woe.  At  last  he  vanished,  but  in  a  curious  manner ;  for  a 
thin,  gray,  transparent  galize  arose  from  .the  place  of  de- 
scent, like  a  vapor,  spread  itself  over  him,  and  sank  along 
with  him. 

Hamlet's  friends  now  entered,  and  swore  upon  the  sword. 
Old  Truepenny,  in  the  mean  time,  was  so  busy  under  ground, 
that,  wherever  they  might  take  their  station,  he  was  sure  to 
call  out  right  beneath  them,  "Swear!"  and  they  started, 
as  if  the  soil  had  taken  fire  below  them,  and  hastened  to 
another  spot.  On  each  of  these  occasions,  too,  a  little  flame 
pierced  through  at  the  place  where  they  were  standing.  The 
whole  produced  on  the  spectators  a  profound  impression. 

After  this,  the  play  proceeded  calmly  on  its  course :  noth- 
ing failed  ;  all  prospered  ;  the  audience  manifested  their  con- 
tentment, and  the  actors  seemed  to  rise  in  heart  and  spirits 
every  scene. 


290  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  curtain  fell,  and  rapturous  applauses  sounded  out  of 
every  corner  of  the  house.  The  four  princely  corpses  sprang 
aloft,  and  embraced  each  other.  Polonius  and  Ophelia  like- 
wise issued  from  their  graves,  and  listened  with  extreme 
satisfaction,  as  Horatio,  who  had  stepped  before  the  curtain 
to  announce  the  following  play,  was  welcomed  with  the  most 
thundering  plaudits.  The  people  would  not  hear  of  any 
other  play,  but  violently  required  the  repetition  of  the  present. 

"We  have  won,"  cried  Serlo,  "and  so  not  another  rea- 
sonable word  this  night !  Every  thing  depends  on  the  first 
impression  :  we  should  never  take  it  ill  of  any  actor,  that,  on 
occasion  of  his  first  appearance,  he  is  provident,  and  even 
self-willed." 

The  box-keeper  came,  and  delivered  him  a  heavy  sum. 
"  We  have  made  a  good  beginning,"  cried  the  manager, 
"-and  prejudice  itself  will  now  be  on  our  side.  But  where 
is  the  supper  you  promised  us  ?  To-night  we  may  be  allowed 
to  relish  it  a  little." 

It  had  been  agreed  that  all  the  party  were  to  stay  together 
in  their  stage-dresses,  and  enjoy  a  little  feast  among  them- 
selves. Wilhelm  had  engaged  to  have  the  place  in  readiness, 
and  Frau  Melina  to  provide  the  victuals. 

A  room,  which  commonly  was  occupied  by  scene-painters, 
had  accordingly  been  polished  up  as  well  as  possible :  our 
friends  had  hung  it  round  with  little  decorations,  and  so 
decked  and  trimmed  it,  that  it  looked  half  like  a  garden, 
half  like  a  colonnade.  On  entering  it,  the  company  were 
dazzled  with  the  glitter  of  a  multitude  of  lights,  which, 
across  the  vapors  of  the  sweetest  and  most  copious  perfumes, 
spread  a  stately  splendor  over  a  well-decorated  and  well-fur- 
nished table.  These  preparations  were  hailed  with  joyful 
interjections  by  the  party ;  all  took  their  places  with  a  cer- 
tain genuine  dignity  ;  it  seemed  as  if  some  royal  family  had 
met  together  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Shades.  Wilhelm  sat 
between  Aurelia  and  the  Frau  Melina  ;  Serlo  between  Philina 
and  Elmira ;  nobody  was  discontented  with  himself  or  with 
his  place. 

Our  two  theatric  amateurs,  who  had  from  the  first  been 
present,  now  increased  the  pleasure  of  the  meeting.  While 
the  exhibition  was  proceeding,  they  had  several  times  stepped 
round,  and  come  upon  the  stage,  expressing,  in  the  warmest 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  291 

terms,  the  delight  which  they  and  the  audience  felt.  They 
now  descended  to  particulars,  and  each  was  richly  rewarded 
for  his  efforts. 

"With  boundless  animation,  the  company  extolled  man  after 
man,  and  passage  after  passage.  To  the  prompter,  who  had 
modestly  sat  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  table,  they  gave  a  lib- 
eral commendation  for  his  ' '  rugged  Pyrrhus ; ' '  the  fencing  of 
Hamlet  and  Laertes  was  beyond  all  praise ;  Ophelia's  mourn- 
ing had  been  inexpressibly  exalted  and  affecting ;  of  Polo- 
nius  they  would  not  trust  themselves  to  speak. 

Every  individual  present  heard  himself  commended  through 
the  rest  and  by  them,  nor  was  the  absent  Ghost  defrauded 
of  his  share  of  praise  and  admiration.  He  had  played  the 
part,  it  was  asserted,  with  a  very  happy  voice,  and  in  a 
lofty  style  ;  but  what  surprised  them  most,  was  the  informa- 
tion which  he  seemed  to  have  about  their  own  affairs.  He 
entirely  resembled  the  painted  figure,  as  if  he  had  sat  to  the 
painter  of  it ;  and  the  two  amateurs  described,  in  glowing 
language,  how  awful  it  had  looked  when  the  spirit  entered 
near  the  picture,  and  stepped  across  before  his  own  image. 
Truth  and  error,  they  declared,  had  been  commingled  in  the 
strangest  manner :  they  had  felt  as  if  the  Queen  really  did 
not  see  the  Ghost.  And  Frau  Melina  was  especially  com- 
mended, because  on  this  occasion  she  had  gazed  upwards  at 
the  picture,  while  Hamlet  was  pointing  downwards  at  the 
Spectre. 

Inquiry  was  now  made  how  the  apparition  could  have 
entered.  The  stage-manager  reported  that  a  back-door, 
usually  blocked  up  by  decorations,  had  that  evening,  as  the 
Gothic  hall  was  occupied,  been  opened ;  that  two  large  fig- 
ures in  white  cloaks  and  hoods,  one  of  whom  was  not  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  other,  had  entered  by  this  passage  ; 
and  by  the  same,  it  was  likely,  they  had  issued  when  the 
third  act  was  over. 

Serlo  praised  the  Ghost  for  one  merit,  —  that  he  had  not 
whined  and  lamented  like  a  tailor ;  nay,  to  animate  his  sou, 
had  even  introduced  a  passage  at  the  end,  which  more  be- 
seemed such  a  hero.  Wilhelm  had  kept  it  in  memory :  he 
promised  to  insert  it  in  his  manuscript. 

Amid  the  pleasures  of  the  entertainment,  it  had  not  been 
noticed  that  the  children  and  the  harper  were  absent.  Ere- 
long they  made  their  entrance,  and  were  blithely  welcomed 
by  the  company.  They  came  in  together,  very  strangely 
decked  :  Felix  was  beating  a  triangle,  Mignon  a  tambourine  ; 


292  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  old  man  had  his  large  harp  hung  round  his  neck,  and  was 
playing  on  it  whilst  he  carried  it  before  him.  They  marched 
round  and  round  the  table,  and  sang  a  multitude  of  songs. 
Eatables  were  handed  them ;  and  the  guests  seemed  to  think 
they  could  not  do  a  greater  kindness  to  the  children,  than  by 
giving  them  as  much  sweet  wine  as  they  chose  to  have.  For 
the  company  themselves  had  not  by  any  means  neglected  a 
stock  of  savory  flasks,  presented  by  the  two  amateurs,  which 
had  arrived  that  evening  in  baskets.  The  children  tripped 
about,  and  sang :  Mignon,  in  particular,  was  frolicsome 
beyond  all  wont.  She  beat  the  tambourine  with  the  greatest 
liveliness  and  grace :  now,  with  her  finger  pressed  against 
the  parchment,  she  hummed  across  it  swiftly  to  and  fro  ;  now 
rattled  on  it  with  her  knuckles,  now  with  the  back  of  her 
hand ;  nay,  sometimes,  with  alternating  rhythm,  she  struck 
it  first  against  her  knee  and  then  against  her  head  ;  and  anon 
twirling  it  in  her  hand,  she  made  the  shells  jingle  by  them- 
selves ;  and  thus,  from  the  simplest  instrument,  elicited  a 
great  variety  of  tones.  After  she  and  Felix  had  long  rioted 
about,  they  sat  down  upon  an  elbow-chair  which  was  stand- 
ing empty  at  the  table,  exactly  opposite  to  Wilhelm. 

"  Keep  out  of  the  chair !  "  cried  Serlo :  "  it  is  waiting  for 
the  Ghost,  I  think ;  and,  when  he  comes,  it  will  be  worse 
for  you." 

"  I  do  not  fear  him,"  answered  Mignon:  "  if  he  come, 
we  can  rise.  He  is  my  uncle,  and  will  not  harm  me."  To 
those  who  did  not  know  that  her  reputed  father  had  been 
named  the  Great  Devil,  this  speech  was  unintelligible. 

The  party  looked  at  one  another:  they  were  more  and 
more  confirmed  in  their  suspicion  that  the  manager  was  in 
the  secret  of  the  Ghost.  They  talked  and  tippled,  and  the 
girls  from  tune  to  tune  cast  timid  glances  towards  the  door. 

The  children,  who,  sitting  in  the  big  chair,  looked  from 
over  the  table  but  like  puppets  in  their  box,  did  actually  at 
length  start  a  little  drama  in  the  style  of  Punch.  The 
screeching  tone  of  these  people  Mignon  imitated  very  well ; 
and  Felix  and  she  began  to  knock  their  heads  together,  and 
against  the  edges  of  the  table,  in  such  a  way  as  only  wooden 
puppets  could  endure.  Mignon,  in  particular,  grew  frantic 
with  gayety :  the  company,  much  as  they  had  laughed  at  her 
at  first,  were  in  fine  obliged  to  curb  her.  But  persuasion  was 
of  small  avail ;  for  she  now  sprang  up,  and  raved,  and  shook 
her  tambourine,  and  capered  round  the  table.  With  her  hair 
flying  out  behind  her,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and  her 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  293 

limbs,  as  it  were,  cast  into  the  air,  she  seemed  like  one  of 
those  antique  Maenads,  whose  wild  and  all  but  impossible 
positions  still,  on  classic  monuments,  often  strike  us  with 
amazement. 

Incited  by  the  talents  and  the  uproar  of  the  children,  each 
endeavored  to  contribute  something  to  the  entertainment  of 
the  night.  The  girls  sung  several  canons  ;  Laertes  whistled 
in  the  manner  of  a  nightingale ;  and  the  Pedant  gave  a 
symphony  pianissimo  upon  the  Jew's-h.arp.  Meanwhile  the 
youths  and  damsels,  who  sat  near  each  other,  had  begun  a 
great  variety  of  games  ;  in  which,  as  the  hands  often  crossed 
and  met,  some  pairs  were  favored  with  a  transient  squeeze, 
the  emblem  of  a  hopeful  kindness.  Madam  Melina  in  par- 
ticular seemed  scarcely  to  conceal  a  decided  tenderness  for 
Wilhelm.  It  was  late ;  and  Aurelia,  perhaps  the  only  one 
retaining  self-possession  in  the  party,  now  stood  up,  and 
signified  that  it  was  time  to  go. 

By  way  of  termination,  Serlo  gave  a  firework,  or  what 
resembled  one  ;  for  he  could  imitate  the  sound  of  crackers, 
rockets,  and  firewheels,  with  his  mouth,  in  a  style  of  nearly 
inconceivable  correctness.  You  had  only  to  shut  your  eyes, 
and  the  deception  was  complete.  In  the  mean  time,  they 
had  all  risen :  the  men  gave  their  arms  to  the  women  to 
escort  them  home.  Wilhelm  was  walking  last  with  Aurelia. 
The  stage-manager  met  him  on  the  stairs,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Here  is  the  veil  our  Ghost  vanished  in ;  it  was  hanging 
fixed  to  the  place  where  he  sank  ;  we  found  it  this  moment." 
—  "A  curious  relic !  "  said  our  friend,  and  took  it  with  him. 

At  this  instant  his  left  arm  was  laid  hold  of,  and  he  felt  a 
smart  twinge  of  pain  in  it.  Mignon  had  hid  herself  in  the 
place :  she  had  seized  him,  and  bit  his  arm.  She  rushed 
past  him,  down  stairs,  and  disappeared. 

On  reaching  the  open  air,  almost  all  of  them  discovered 
that  they  had  drunk  too  liberally.  They  glided  asunder 
without  taking  leave. 

The  instant  Wilhelm  gained  his  room,  he  stripped,  and, 
extinguishing  his  candle,  hastened  into  bed.  Sleep  was  over 
powering  him  without  delay,  when  a  noise,  that  seemed  to 
issue  from  behind  the  stove,  aroused  him.  In  the  eye  of  his 
heated  fancy,  the  image  of  the  harnessed  King  was  hovering 
there  :  he  sat  up  that  he  might  address  the  Spectre  ;  but  he 
felt  himself  encircled  with  soft  arms,  and  his  mouth  was 
shut  with  kisses,  which  he  had  not  force  to  push  away. 


294  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NEXT  morning  Wilhelm  started  up  with  an  unpleasant 
feeling,  and  found  himself  alone.  His  head  was  still  dim 
with  the  tumult,  which  he  had  not  yet  entirely  slept  off ; 
and  the  recollection  of  his  nightly  visitant  disquieted  his 
mind.  His  first  suspicion  lighted  on  Philina ;  but,  on  second 
thoughts,  he  conceived  that  it  could  not  have  been  she.  He 
sprang  out  of  bed :  and,  while  putting  on  his  clothes,  he 
noticed  that  the  door,  which  commonly  he  used  to  bolt,  was 
now  ajar;  though  whether  he  had  shut  it  on  the  previous 
night,  or  not,  he  could  not  recollect. 

But  what  surprised  him  most  was  the  Spirit's  veil,  which 
he  found  lying  on  his  bed.  Having  brought  it  up  with  him, 
he  had  most  probably  thrown  it  there  himself.  It  was  a 
gray  gauze :  on  the  hem  of  it  he  noticed  an  inscription 
broidered  hi  dark  letters.  He  unfolded  it,  and  read  the 
words,  "  FOR  THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST  TIME!  FLEE,  YOUTH! 
FLEE  !  "  He  was  struck  with  it,  and  knew  not  what  to 
think  or  say. 

At  this  moment  Mignon  entered  with  his  breakfast.  The 
aspect  of  the  child  astonished  Wilhelm,  we  may  almost  say 
frightened  him.  She  appeared  to  have  grown  taller  over 
night :  she  entered  with  a  stately,  noble  air,  and  looked  him 
in  the  face  so  earnestly,  that  he  could  not  endure  her 
glances.  She  did  not  touch  him,  as  at  other  times,  when, 
for  morning  salutation,  she  would  press  his  hand,  or  kiss  his 
cheek,  his  lips,  his  arm,  or  shoulder;  but,  having  put  his 
things  in  order,  she  retired  in  silence. 

The  appointed  time  of  a  first  rehearsal  now  arrived :  our 
friends  assembled,  all  of  them  entirely  out  of  tune  from  yes- 
ternight's debauch.  Wilhelm  roused  himself  as  much  as 
possible,  that  he  might  not  at  the  very  outset  violate  the  prin- 
ciples he  had  preached  so  lately  with  such  emphasis.  His 
practice  in  the  matter  helped  him  through  ;  for  practice  and 
habit  must,  in  every  art,  fill  up  the  voids  which  genius  and 
temper  in  their  fluctuations  will  so  often  leave. 

But,  in  the  present  case,  our  friends  had  especial  reason  to 
admit  the  truth  of  the  remark,  that  no  one  should  begin 
with  a  festivity  any  situation  that  is  meant  to  last,  particularly 
that  is  meant  to  be  a  trade,  a  mode  of  living.  Festivities 
are  fit  for  what  is  happily  concluded :  at  the  commence- 
ment, they  but  waste  the  force  and  zeal  which  should  inspire 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  295 

us  in  the  struggle,  and  support  us  through  a  long-continued 
labor.  Of  all  festivities,  the  marriage  festival  appears  the 
m«st  unsuitable  :  calmness,  humility,  and  silent  hope  befit  no 
ceremony  more  than  this. 

So  passed  the  day,  which  to  Wilhelm  seemed  the  most  in- 
sipid he  had  ever  spent.  Instead  of  their  accustomed  con- 
versation in  the  evening,  the  company  began  to  yawn :  the 
interest  of  Hamlet  was  exhausted ;  they  rather  felt  it  disa- 
greeable than  otherwise  that  the  play  was  to  be  repeated 
next  night.  Wilhelm  showed  the  veil  which  the  royal  Dane 
had  left:  it  was  to  be  inferred  from  this,  that  he  would  not 
come  again.  Serlo  was  of  that  opinion  ;  he  appeared  to  be 
deep  in  the  secrets  of  the  Ghost :  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
inscription,  "  Flee,  youth  !  Flee  !  "  seemed  inconsistent  with 
the  rest.  How  could  Serlo  be  in  league  with  any  one  whose 
aim  it  was  to  take  away  the  finest  actor  of  his  troop  ? 

It  had  now  become  a  matter  of  necessity  to  confer  on 
Boisterous  the  Ghost's  part,  and  on  the  Pedant  that  of  the 
King.  Both  declared  that  they  had  studied  these  sufficiently : 
nor  was  it  wonderful ;  for  in  such  a  number  of  rehearsals, 
and  so  copious  a  treatment  of  the  subject,  all  of  them  had 
grown  familiar  with  it :  each  could  have  exchanged  his  part 
with  any  other.  Yet  they  rehearsed  a  little  here  and  there, 
and  prepared  the  new  adventurers,  as  fully  as  the  hurry  would 
admit.  When  the  company  was  breaking  up  at  a  pretty  late 
hour,  Philina  softly  whispered  Wilhelm  as  she  passed,  "  I 
must  have  my  slippers  back :  thou  wilt  not  bolt  the  door?  " 
These  words  excited  some  perplexity  in  Wilhelm,  when  he 
reached  his  chamber;  they  strengthened  the  suspicion  that 
Philina  was  the  secret  visitant :  and  we  ourselves  are  forced 
to  coincide  with  this  idea ;  particularly  as  the  causes,  which 
awakened  in  our  friend  another  and  a  stranger  supposition, 
cannot  be  disclosed.  He  kept  walking  up  and  down  his 
chamber  in  no  quiet  frame :  his  door  was  actually  not  yet 
bolted. 

On  a  sudden  Mignon  rushed  into  the  room,  laid  hold  of 
him,  and  cried,  "  Master !  save  the  house  !  It  is  on  fire  !  " 
Wilhelm  sprang  through  the  door,  and  a  strong  smoke  came 
rushing  down  upon  him  from  the  upper  story.  On  the  street 
he  heard  the  cry  of  fire ;  and  the  harper,  with  his  instru- 
ment in  his  hand,  came  down-stairs  breathless  through  the 
smoke.  Aurelia  hurried  out  of  her  chamber,  and  threw  little 
Felix  into  Wilhelm's  arms. 

"  Save  the  child !  "  cried  she,  "  and  we  will  mind  the 
rest." 


296  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Wilhelm  did  not  look  upon  the  danger  as  so  great:  his 
first  thought  was,  to  penetrate  to  the  source  of  the  fire,  and 
try  to  stifle  it  before  it  reached  a  head.  He  gave  Felix  to 
the  harper;  commanding  him  to  hasten  down  the  stone 
stairs,  which  led  across  a  little  garden- vault  out  into  the 
garden,  and  to  wait  with  the  children  in  the  open  air.  Mig- 
non  took  a  light  to  show  the  way.  He  begged  Aurelia  to 
secure  her  things  there  also.  He  himself  pierced  upwards 
through  the  smoke,  but  it  was  in  vain  that  he  exposed  him- 
self to  such  danger.  The  flame  appeared  to  issue  from  a 
neighboring  house :  it  had  already  caught  the  wooden  floor 
and  staircase :  some  others,  who  had  hastened  to  his  help, 
were  suffering  like  himself  from  fire  and  vapor.  Yet  he 
kept  inciting  them ;  he  called  for  water ;  he  conjured  them 
to  dispute  every  inch  with  the  flame,  and  promised  to  abide 
by  them  to  the  last.  At  this  instant,  Migiion  came  spring- 
ing up,  and  cried,  "  Master !  save  thy  Felix !  The  old  man 
is  mad!  He  is  killing  him."  Scarcely  knowing  what  he 
did,  Wilhelm  darted  down  stairs ;  and  Mignon  followed  close 
behind  him. 

On  the  last  steps,  which  led  into  the  garden-vault,  he 
paused  with  horror.  Some  heaps  of  fire-wood  branches,  and 
large  masses  of  straw,  which  had  been  stowed  in  the  place, 
were  burning  with  a  clear  flame ;  Felix  was  lying  on  the 
ground,  and  screaming  ;  the  harper  stood  aside,  holding  down 
his  head,  and  leaned  against  the  wall.  "  Unhapp3r  creature  ! 
what  is  this?"  said  Wilhelm.  The  old  man  spoke  not; 
Mignon  lifted  Felix,  and  carried  him  with  difficulty  to  the 
garden ;  while  Wilhelm  strove  to  pull  the  fire  asunder  and 
extinguish  it,  but  only  by  his  efforts  made  the  flame  more 
violent.  At  last  he,  too,  was  forced  to  flee  into  the  garden, 
with  his  hair  and  his  eyelashes  burned ;  tearing  the  harper 
with  hun  through  the  conflagration,  who,  with  singed  beard, 
unwillingly  accompanied  him. 

Wilhelm  hastened  instantly  to  seek  the  children.  He 
found  them  on  the  threshold  of  a  summer-house  at  some 
distance :  Mignon  was  trying  every  effort  to  pacify  her  com- 
rade. Wilhelm  took  him  on  his  knee :  he  questioned  him, 
felt  him,  but  could  obtain  no  satisfactory  account  from  either 
him  or  Mignon. 

Meanwhile,  the  fire  had  fiercely  seized  on  several  houses : 
it  was  now  enlightening  all  the  neighborhood.  Wilhelm 
looked  at  the  child  in  the  red  glare  of  the  flames :  he  could 
find  no  wound,  no  blood,  no  hurt  of  any  kind.  He  groped 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  297 

over  all  the  little  creature's  body,  but  the  boy  gave  no  sign  of 
pain  :  on  the  contrary,  he  by  degrees  grew  calm,  and  began  to 
wonder  at  the  blazing  houses,  and  express  his  pleasure  at  the 
spectacle  of  beams  and  rafters  burning  all  in  order,  like  a 
grand  illumination,  so  beautifully  there. 

Wilhelm  thought  not  of  the  clothes  or  goods  he  might  have 
lost :  he  felt  deeply  how  inestimable  to  him  was  this  pair  of 
human  beings,  who  had  just  escaped  so  great  a  danger.  He 
pressed  little  Felix  to  his  heart  with  a  new  emotion  :  Mignon, 
too,  he  was  about  to  clasp  with  joyful  tenderness ;  but  she 
softly  avoided  this :  she  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  held  it 
fast. 

"Master,"  said  she  (till  the  present  evening  she  had 
hardly  ever  named  him  master ;  at  first  she  used  to  name  him 
sir,  and  afterwards  to  call  him  father) ,  —  "  Master !  we 
have  escaped  an  awful  danger :  thy  Felix  was  on  the  point 
of  death." 

By  many  inquiries,  Wilhelm  learned  from  her  at  last,  that, 
when  they  came  into  the  vault,  the  harper  tore  the  light 
from  her  hand,  and  set  on  fire  the  straw.  That  he  then  put 
Felix  down,  laid  his  hands  with  strange  gestures  on  the  head 
of  the  child,  and  drew  a  knife  as  if  he  meant  to  sacrifice  him. 
That  she  sprang  forward,  and  snatched  it  from  him ;  that 
she  screamed  ;  and  some  one  from  the  house,  who  was  carry- 
ing something  down  into  the  garden,  came  to  her  help,  but 
must  have  gone  away  again  in  the  confusion,  and  left  the 
old  man  and  the  child  alone. 

Two  or  even  three  houses  were  now  flaming  in  a  general 
blaze.  Owing  to  the  conflagration  in  the  vault,  no  person 
had  been  able  to  take  shelter  in  the  garden.  Wilhelm  was 
distressed  about  his  friends,  and  in  a  less  degree  about  his 
property.  Not  venturing  to  quit  the  children,  he  was  forced 
to  sit,  and  see  the  mischief  spreading  more  and  more. 

In  this  anxious  state  he  passed  some  hours.  Felix  had 
fallen  asleep  on  his  bosom :  Mignon  was  lying  at  his  side, 
and  holding  fast  his  hand.  The  efforts  of  the  people  finally 
subdued  the  fire.  The  burned  houses  sank,  with  successive 
crashes,  into  heaps  ;  the  morning  was  advancing  ;  the  children 
awoke,  and  complained  of  bitter  cold ;  even  Wilhelm,  in  his 
light  dress,  could  scarcely  brook  the  dullness  of  the  falling 
dew.  He  took  the  young  ones  to  the  rubbish  of  the  prostrate 
building,  where,  among  the  ashes  and  the  embers,  they  found 
a  very  grateful  warmth. 

The  opening  day  collected,  by  degrees,  the  various  indi- 


298  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

viduals  of  the  party.  All  of  them  had  got  away  unhurt: 
no  one  had  lost  much.  Wilhelm's  trunk  was  saved  among 
the  rest. 

Towards  ten  o'clock  Serlo  called  them  to  rehearse  their 
"  Hamlet,"  at  least  some  scenes,  in  which  fresh  players  were 
to  act.  He  had  some  debates  to  manage,  on  this  point,  with 
the  municipal  authorities.  The  clergy  required,  that,  after 
such  a  visitation  of  Providence,  the  playhouse  should  be  shut 
for  some  time  ;  and  Serlo,  on  the  other  hand,  maintained,  that 
both  for  the  purpose  of  repairing  the  damage  he  had  suffered, 
and  of  exhilarating  the  depressed  and  terrified  spirits  of  the 
people,  nothing  could  be  more  in  place  than  the  exhibition 
of  some  interesting  play.  His  opinion  in  the  end  prevailed, 
and  the  house  was  full.  The  actors  played  with  singular  fire, 
with  more  of  a  passionate  freedom  than  at  first.  The  feel- 
ings of  the  audience  had  been  heightened  by  the  horrors  of 
the  previous  night,  and  their  appetite  for  entertainment  had 
been  sharpened  by  the  tedium  of  a  wasted  and  dissipated 
day :  every  one  had  more  than  usual  susceptibility  for  what 
was  strange  and  moving.  Most  of  them  were  new  spectators, 
invited  by  the  fame  of  the  play:  they  could  not  compare 
the  present  with  the  preceding  evening.  Boisterous  played 
altogether  in  the  style  of  the  unknown  Ghost :  the  Pedant, 
too,  had  accurately  seized  the  manner  of  his  predecessor; 
nor  was  his  own  woful  aspect  without  its  use  to  him ;  for  it 
seemed  as  if,  in  spite  of  his  purple  cloak  and  his  ermine 
collar,  Hamlet  were  fully  justified  in  calling  him  a  "  king  of 
shreds  and  patches." 

Few  have  ever  reached  the  throne  by  a  path  more  singular 
than  his  had  been.  But  although  the  rest,  and  especially 
Philina,  made  sport  of  his  preferment,  he  himself  signified 
that  the  count,  a  consummate  judge,  had  at  the  first  glance 
predicted  this  and  much  more  of  him.  Philina,  on  the  other 
hand,  recommended  lowliness  of  mind  to  him ;  saying,  she 
would  now  and  then  powder  the  sleeves  of  his  coat,  that  he 
might  remember  that  unhappy  night  in  the  castle,  and  wear 
his  crown  with  meekness. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  299 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OUR  friends  had  sought  out  other  lodgings,  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  and  were  by  this  means  much  dispersed.  Wil- 
helm  had  conceived  a  liking  for  the  garden-house,  where  he 
had  spent  the  night  of  the  conflagration :  he  easily  obtained 
the  key,  and  settled  himself  there.  But  Aurelia  being  greatly 
hampered  in  her  new  abode,  he  was  obliged  to  retain  little 
Felix  with  him.  Mignon,  indeed,  would  not  part  with  the 
boy. 

He  had  placed  the  children  in  a  neat  chamber  on  the  upper 
floor :  he  himself  was  in  the  lower  parlor.  The  young  ones 
were  asleep  at  this  time :  Wilhelm  could  not  sleep. 

Adjoining  the  lovely  garden,  which  the  full  moon  had  just 
risen  to  illuminate,  the  black  ruins  of  the  fire  were  visible  ; 
and  here  and  there  a  streak  of  vapor  was  still  mounting  from 
them.  The  air  was  soft,  the  nignt  extremely  beautiful. 
Philina,  in  issuing  from  the  theatre,  had  jogged  him  with  her 
elbow,  and  whispered  something  to  him,  which  he  did  not 
understand.  He  felt  perplexed  and  out  of  humor :  he  knew 
not  what  he  should  expect  or  do.  For  a  day  or  two  Philina 
had  avoided  him  :  it  was  not  till  to-night  that  she  had  given 
him  any  second  signal.  Unhappily  the  doors,  that  he  was 
not  to  bolt,  were  now  consumed :  the  slippers  had  evaporated 
into  smoke.  How  the  girl  would  gain  admission  to  the 
garden,  if  her  aim  was  such,  he  knew  not.  He  wished  she 
might  not  come,  and  yet  he  longed  to  have  some  explanation 
with  her. 

But  what  lay  heavier  at  his  heart  than  this,  was  the  fate 
of  the  harper,  whom,  since  the  fire,  no  one  had  seen.  Wil- 
helm was  afraid,  that,  in  clearing  off  the  rubbish,  they  would 
find  him  buried  under  it.  Our  friend  had  carefully  concealed 
the  suspicion  which  he  entertained,  that  it  was  the  harper 
who  had  fired  the  house.  The  old  man  had  been  first  seen, 
as  he  rushed  from  the  burning  and  smoking  floor,  and  his 
desperation  in  the  vault  appeared  a  natural  consequence  of 
such  a  deed.  Yet,  from  the  inquiry  which  the  magistrates 
had  instituted  touching  the  affair,  it  seemed  likely  that  the 
fire  had  not  originated  in  the  house  where  Wilhelm  lived,  but 
had  accidentally  been  kindled  in  the  third  from  that,  and  had 
crept  along  beneath  the  roofs  before  it  burst  into  activity. 

Seated  in  a  grove,  our  friend  was  meditating  all  these  things, 
when  he  heard  a  low  footfall  in  a  neighboring  walk.  By  the 


300  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

melancholy  song  which  arose  along  with  it,  he  recognized  the 
harper.  He  caught  the  words  of  the  song  without  difficulty : 
it  turned  on  the  consolations  of  a  miserable  man,  conscious 
of  being  on  the  borders  of  insanity.  Unhappily  our  frk  —i 
forgot  the  whole  of  it  except  the  last  verse :  — 

"  Wheresoe'er  my  steps  may  lead  me, 

Meekly  at  the  door  I'll  stay: 
Pious  hands  will  come  to  feed  me, 

And  I'll  wander  on  iny  way. 
Each  will  feel  a  touch  of  gladness 

When  my  aged  form  appears : 
Each  will  shed  a  tear  of  sadness, 

Though  I  reck  not  of  his  tears." 

So  singing,  he  had  reached  the  garden-door,  which  led  into 
an  unfrequented  street.  Finding  it  bolted,  he  was  making 
an  attempt  to  climb  the  railing,  when  Wilhelm  held  him  back, 
and  addressed  some  kindly  words  to  him.  The  old  man 
begged  to  have  the  door  unlocked,  declaring  that  he  would 
and  must  escape.  Wilhelm  represented  to  him  that  he  might 
indeed  escape  from  the  garden,  but  could  not  from  the  town  ; 
showing,  at  the  same  time,  what  suspicions  he  must  needs 
incur  by  such  a  step.  But  it  was  in  vain  :  the  old  man  held 
by  his  opinion.  Our  friend,  however,  would  not  yield  ;  and 
at  last  he  brought  him,  half  by  force,  into  the  garden-house, 
in  which  he  locked  himself  along  with  him.  The  two  carried 
on  a  strange  conversation  ;  which,  however,  not  to  afflict  our 
readers  with  repeating  unconnected  thoughts  and  dolorous 
emotions,  we  had  rather  pass  in  silence  than  detail  at  large. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

UNDETERMINED  what  to  do  with  this  unhappy  man,  who 
displayed  such  indubitable  symptoms  of  madness,  Wilhelm 
would  have  been  in  great  perplexity,  had  not  Laertes  come 
that  very  morning,  and  delivered  him  from  his  uncertainty. 
Laertes,  as  usual,  rambling  everywhere  about  the  town,  had 
happened,  in  some  coffee-house,  to  meet  with  a  man,  who,  a 
short  time  ago,  had  suffered  under  violent  attacks  of  melan- 
choly. This  person,  it  appeared,  had  been  intrusted  to  the 
care  of  some  country  clergyman,  who  made  it  his  peculiar 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  301 

business  to  attend  to  people  in  such  situations.  In  the  present 
instance,  as  in  many  others,  his  treatment  had  succeeded  :  he 
was  still  in  town,  and  the  friends  of  the  patient  were  show- 
ing him  the  greatest  honor. 

Wilhelm  hastened  to  find  out  this  person  :  he  disclosed  the 
case  to  him,  and  agreed  with  him  about  the  terms.  The 
harper  was  to  be  brought  over  to  him,  under  certain  pre- 
texts. .  The  separation  deeply  pained  our  friend ;  so  used 
was  he  to  see  the  man  beside  him,  and  to  hear  his  spirited 
and  touching  strains.  The  hope  of  soon  beholding  him  re- 
covered, served,  in  some  degree,  to  moderate  this  feeling. 
The  old  man's  harp  had  been  destroyed  in  the  burning  of  the 
house :  they  purchased  him  another,  and  gave  it  him  when 
he  departed. 

Mignon's  little  wardrobe  had  in  like  manner  been  con- 
sumed. As  "Wilhelm  was  about  providing  her  with  new 
apparel,  Aurelia  proposed  that  now  at  last  they  should  dress 
her  as  a  girl. 

"  No  !  no !  not  at  all !  "  cried  Mignon,  and  insisted  on  it 
with  such  earnestness,  that  the}'  let  her  have  her  way. 

The  company  had  not  much  leisure  for  reflection  :  the  ex- 
hibitions followed  close  on  one  another. 

Wilhelm  often  mingled  with  the  audience,  to  ascertain 
their  feelings ;  but  he  seldom  heard  a  criticism  of  the  kind 
he  wished :  more  frequently  the  observations  he  listened  to 
distressed  or  angered  him.  Thus,  for  instance,  shortly  after 
"Hamlet"  had  been  acted  for  the  first  time,  a  youth  was 
telling,  with  considerable  animation,  how  happy  he  had  been 
that  evening  in  the  playhouse.  Wilhelm  hearkened,  and  was 
scandalized  to  learn  that  his  neighbor  had,  on  that  occasion, 
in  contempt  of  those  behind  him,  kept  his  hat  on,  stubbornly 
refusing  to  remove  it  till  the  play  was  done  ;  to  which  hero- 
ical  transaction  he  still  looked  back  with  great  contentment. 

Another  gentleman  declared  that  Wilhelm  played  Laertes 
very  well,  but  that  the  actor  who  had  undertaken  Hamlet 
did  not  seem  too  happy  in  his  part.  This  permutation  was 
not  quite  unnatural ;  for  Wilhelm  and  Laertes  did  resemble 
one  another,  though  in  a  very  distant  manner. 

A  third  critic  warmly  praised  his  acting,  particularly  in  the 
scene  with  his  mother ;  only  he  regretted  much,  that,  in  this 
fiery  moment,"^  white  strap  had  peered  out  from  below  the 
Prince's  waistcoat,  whereby  the  illusion  had  been  greatly 
marred. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  interior  of  the  company,  a  multitude  of 


302  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

alterations  were  occurring.  Philina,  since  the  evening  sub- 
sequent to  that  of  the  fire,  had  never  given  our  friend  the 
smallest  sign  of  closer  intimacy.  She  had,  as  it  seemed  on 
purpose,  hired  a  remote  lodging  :  she  associated  with  Elmira, 
and  came  seldomer  to  Serlo,  —  an  arrangement  very  gratify- 
ing to  Aurelia.  Serlo  continued  still  to  like  her,  and  often 
visited  her  quarters,  particularly  when  he  hoped  to  find  El- 
mira there.  One  evening  he  took  Wilhelm  with  him.  At 
their  entrance,  both  of  them  were  much  surprised  to  see 
Philina,  in  the  inner  room,  sitting  in  close  contact  with  a 
young  officer.  He  wore  a  red  uniform  with  white  panta- 
loons ;  but,  his  face  being  turned  away,  they  could  not  see  it. 
Philina  came  into  the  outer  room  to  meet  her  visitors,  and 
shut  the  door  behind  her.  "  You  surprise  me  in  the  middle 
of  a  very  strange  adventure,"  cried  she. 

44  It  does  not  appear  so  strange,"  said  Serlo ;  "  but  let  us 
see  this  handsome,  young,  enviable  gallant.  You  have  us  in 
such  training,  that  we  dare  not  show  any  jealousy,  however 
it  may  be." 

"  I  must  leave  you  to  suspicion  for  a  time,"  replied  Phil- 
ina in  a  jesting  tone  ;  "  yet  I  can  assure  you,  the  gallant  is 
a  lady  of  my  friends,  who  wishes  to  remain  a  few  days  un- 
discovered. You  shall  know  her  history  in  due  season  ;  nay, 
perhaps  you  shall  even  behold  the  beautiful  spinster  in 
person  ;  and  then  most  probably  I  shall  have  need  of  all  my 
prudence  and  discretion,  for  it  seems  too  likely  that  your 
new  acquaintance  will  drive  your  old  friend  out  of  favor." 

Wilhelm  stood  as  if  transformed  to  stone.  At  the  first 
glance,  the  red  uniform  had  reminded  him  of  Mariana :  the 
figure,  too,  was  hers  ;  the  fair  hair  was  hers  ;  only  the  pres- 
ent individual  seemed  to  be  a  little  taller. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  cried  he,  "let  us  know  something 
more  about  your  friend !  let  us  see  this  lady  in  disguise ! 
We  are  now  partakers  of  your  secret :  we  will  promise,  we 
will  swear  ;  only  let  us  see  the  lady  !  " 

44  What  a  fire  he  is  in  !"  cried  Philina :  "  but  be  cool,  be 
calm  ;  for  to-day  there  will  nothing  come  of  it. ' ' 

44  Let  us  only  know  her  name  !  "  cried  Wilhelm. 

"  It  were  a  fine  secret,  then,"  replied  Philina. 

' '  At  least  her  first  name !  ' ' 

44  If  you  can  guess  it,  be  it  so.  Three  guesses  I  will  give 
you,  —  not  a  fourth.  You  might  lead  me  through  the  whole 
calendar." 

44  Well !  "  said  Wilhelm :  "  Cecilia,  then?  " 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  303 

"  None  of  your  Cecilias  !  " 

"Henrietta?" 

"  Not  at  all !  Have  a  care,  I  pray  you  :  guess  better,  or 
your  curiosity  will  have  to  sleep  unsatisfied." 

Wilhelm  paused  and  shivered :  he  tried  to  speak,  but  the 
sound  died  away  within  him.  ' '  Mariana  ?  ' '  stammered  he 
at  last,  ' '  Mariana  ?  ' ' 

"Bravo!"  cried  Philina.  "Hit  to  a  hair's-breadth !  " 
said  she,  whirling  round  upon  her  heel,  as  she  was  wont  on 
such  occasions. 

Wilhelm  could  not  utter  a  word  ;  and  Serlo,  not  observing 
his  emotion,  urged  Philina  more  and  more  to  let  them  in. 

Conceive  the  astonishment  of  both,  when  Wilhelm,  suddenly 
and  vehemently  interrupting  their  raillery,  threw  himself  at 
Philina's  feet,  and,  with  an  air  and  tone  of  the  deepest 
passion,  begged  and  conjured  her,  "  Let  me  see  the  stran- 
ger," cried  he:  "she  is  mine;  she  is  my  Mariana!  She 
for  whom  I  have  longed  all  the  days  of  my  life,  she  who  is 
still  more  to  me  than  all  the  women  in  this  world !  Go  in  to 
her  at  least,  and  tell  her  that  I  am  here,  —  that  the  man  is  here 
who  linked  to  her  his  earliest  love,  and  all  the  happiness  of 
his  youth.  Say  that  he  will  justify  himself,  though  he  left 
her  so  unkindly ;  he  will  pray  for  pardon  of  her ;  and  will 
grant  her  pardon,  whatsoever  she  may  have  done  to  him ;  he 
will  even  make  no  pretensions  further,  if  he  may  but  see  her, 
if  he  may  but  see  that  she  is  living  and  in  happiness." 

Philina  shook  her  head,  and  said,  "  Speak  low  !  Do  not 
betray  us !  If  the  lady  is  indeed  your  friend,  her  feelings 
must  be  spared ;  for  she  does  not  in  the  least  suspect  that 
you  are  here.  Quite  a  different  sort  of  business  brings  her 
hither ;  and  you  know  well  enough,  one  had  rather  see  a 
spectre  than  a  former  lover  at  an  inconvenient  time.  I  will 
ask  her,  and  prepare  her:  we  will  then  consider  what  is 
further  to  be  done.  To-morrow  I  shall  write  you  a  note, 
saying  when  you  are  to  come,  or  whether  you  may  come  at 
all.  Obey  me  punctually ;  for  I  protest,  that,  without  her 
own  and  my  consent,  no  e}'e  shall  see  this  lovely  creature.  I 
shall  keep  my  doors  better  bolted  ;  and,  with  axe  and  crow, 
you  surely  will  not  visit  me." 

Our  friend  conjured  her,  Serlo  begged  of  her ;  but  all  in 
vain  :  they  were  obliged  to  yield,  and  leave  the  chamber  and 
the  house. 

With  what  feelings  Wilhelm  passed  the  night  is  easy  to 
conceive.  How  slowly  the  hours  of  the  day  flowed  on,  while 


304  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

he  sat  expecting  a  message  from  Philina,  may  also  be  ima- 
gined. Unhappily  he  had  to  play  that  evening  :  such  mental 
pain  he  had  never  endured.  The  moment  his  part  was  done, 
he  hastened  to  Philina' s  house,  without  inquiring  whether  he 
had  got  her  leave  or  not.  He  found  her  doors  bolted  :  and 
the  people  of  the  house  informed  him  that  mademoiselle  had 
set  out  early  in  the  morning,  in  company  with  a  young  offi- 
cer ;  that  she  had  talked  about  returning  shortly ;  but  they 
had  not  believed  her,  she  having  paid  her  debts,  and  taken 
every  thing  along  with  her. 

This  intelligence  drove  Wilhelm  almost  frantic.  He  has- 
tened to  Laertes,  that  he  might  take  measures  for  pursuing 
her,  and,  cost  what  it  would,  for  attaining  certainty  regard- 
ing her  attendant.  Laertes,  however,  represented  to  him  the 
imprudence  of  such  passion  and  credulity.  "  I  dare  wager, 
after  all,"  said  he,  "  that  it  is  no  one  else  but  Friedrich. 
The  boy  is  of  a  high  family,  I  know ;  he  is  madly  in  love 
with  Philina ;  it  is  likely  he  has  cozened  from  his  friends  a 
fresh  supply  of  money,  so  that  he  can  once  more  live  with 
her  in  peace  for  a  while." 

These  considerations,  though  they  did  not  quite  convince 
our  friend,  sufficed  to  make  him  waver.  Laertes  showed 
him  how  improbable  the  story  was  with  which  Philina  had 
amused  them ;  reminded  him  how  well  the  stranger's  hair 
»nd  figure  answered  Friedrich ;  that  with  the  start  of  him  by 
twelve  hours,  they  could  not  easily  be  overtaken ;  and,  what 
was  more  than  all,  that  Serlo  could  not  do  without  him  at 
the  theatre. 

By  so  many  reasons,  "VVilhelm  was  at  last  persuaded  to 
postpone  the  execution  of  his  project.  That  night  Laertes 
got  an  active  man,  to  whom  they  gave  the  charge  of  follow- 
ing the  runaways.  It  was  a  steady  person,  who  had  often 
officiated  as  courier  and  guide  to  travelling-parties,  and  was 
at  present  without  employment.  They  gave  him  money,  they 
informed  him  of  the  whole  affair ;  instructing  him  to  seek 
and  overtake  the  fugitives,  to  keep  them  in  his  eye,  and  in- 
stantly to  send  intelligence  to  Wilhelm  where  and  how  he 
found  them.  That  very  hour  he  mounted  horse,  pursuing 
this  ambiguous  pair ;  by  which  exertions,  Wilhelm  was,  in 
some  degree  at  least,  composed. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  305 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  departure  of  Philina  did  not  make  a  deep  sensation, 
either  in  the  theatre  or  in  the  public.  She  never  was  in 
earnest  with  any  thing  :  the  women  universally  detested  her  ; 
the  men  rather  wished  to  see  her  selves-two  than  on  the 
boards.  Thus  her  fine,  and,  for  the  stage,  even  happy,  tal- 
ents were  of  no  avail  to  her.  The  other  members  of  the 
company  took  greater  labor  on  them  to  supply  her  place : 
the  Frau  Melina,  in  particular,  was  much  distinguished  by 
her  diligence  and  zeal.  She  noted  down,  as  formerly,  the 
principles  of  Wilhelm ;  she  guided  herself  according  to  his 
theory  and  his  example ;  there  was  of  late  a  something  in 
her  nature  that  rendered  her  more  interesting.  She  soon 
acquired  an  accurate  mode  of  acting :  she  attained  the  nat- 
ural tone  of  conversation  altogether,  that  of  keen  emotion 
she  attained  in  some  degree.  She  contrived,  moreover,  to 
adapt  herself  to  Serlo's  humors  :  she  took  pains  in  singing 
for  his  pleasure,  and  succeeded  in  that  matter  moderately 
well. 

By  the  accession  of  some  other  players,  the  company  was 
rendered  more  complete :  and  while  Wilhelm  and  Serlo  were 
busied  each  in  his  degree,  the  former  insisting  on  the  general 
tone  and  spirit  of  the  whole,  the  latter  faithfully  elaborating 
the  separate  passages,  a  laudable  ardor  likewise  inspired  the 
actors  ;  and  the  public  took  a  lively  interest  in  their  concerns. 

"  We  are  on  the  right  path,"  said  Serlo  once  :  "if  we  can 
continue  thus,  the  public,  too,  will  soon  be  on  it.  Men  are 
easily  astonished  and  misled  by  wild  and  barbarous  exhibi- 
tions ;  yet  lay  before  them  any  thing  rational  and  polished, 
in  an  interesting  manner,  and  doubt  not  they  will  catch  at 
it." 

"  What  forms  the  chief  defect  of  our  German  theatre, 
what  prevents  both  actor  and  spectator  from  obtaining 
proper  views,  is  the  vague  and  variegated  nature  of  the 
objects  it  contains.  You  nowhere  find  a  barrier  on  which  to 
prop  your  judgment.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  far  from  an  ad- 
vantage to  us  that  we  have  expanded  our  stage  into,  as  it 
were,  a  boundless  arena  for  the  whole  of  nature ;  yet  neither 
manager  nor  actor  need  attempt  contracting  it,  until  the 
taste  of  the  nation  shall  itself  mark  out  the  proper  circle. 
Every  good  society  submits  to  certain  conditions  and  restric- 
tions ;  so  also  must  every  good  theatre.  Certain  manners, 


306  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

certain  modes  of  speech,  certain  objects,  and  fashions  of 
proceeding,  must  altogether  be  excluded.  You  do  not  grow 
poorer  by  limiting  your  household  expenditure." 

On  these  points  our  friends  were  more  or  less  accordant 
or  at  variance.  The  majority,  with  Wilhelm  at  their  head, 
were  for  the  English  theatre  ;  Serlo  and  a  few  others  for  the 
French. 

It  was  also  settled,  that  in  vacant  hours,  of  which  unhap- 
pily an  actor  has  too  many,  they  should  in  company  peruse 
the  finest  plays  in  both  these  languages ;  examining  what 
parts  of  them  seemed  best  and  worthiest  of  imitation.  They 
accordingly  commenced  with  some  French  pieces.  On  these 
occasions,  it  was  soon  observed,  Aurelia  went  away  when- 
ever they  began  to  read.  At  first  they  supposed  she  had 
been  sick :  Wilhelm  once  questioned  her  about  it. 

"I  would  not  assist  at  such  a  reading,"  said  she,  "for 
how  could  I  hear  and  judge,  when  my  heart  was  torn  in 
pieces  ?  I  hate  the  French  language  from  the  bottom  of  my 
soul." 

"  How  can  you  be  hostile  to  a  language,"  cried  our  friend, 
"  to  which  we  Germans  are  indebted  for  the  greater  part  of 
our  accomplishments ;  to  which  we  must  become  indebted 
still  more,  if  our  natural  qualities  are  ever  to  assume  their 
proper  form  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  prejudice !  "  replied  Aurelia,  "  a  painful  impres- 
sion, a  hated  recollection  of  my  faithless  friend,  has  robbed 
me  of  all  enjoyment  in  that  beautiful  and  cultivated  tongue. 
How  I  hate  it  now  with  my  whole  strength  and  heart !  Dur- 
ing the  period  of  our  kindliest  connection,  he  wrote  in  Ger- 
man ;  and  what  genuine,  powerful,  cordial  German  !  It  was 
not  till  he  wanted  to  get  quit  of  me  that  he  began  seriously 
to  write  in  French.  I  marked,  I  felt,  what  he  meant.  What 
he  would  have  blushed  to  utter  in  his  mother  tongue,  he 
could  by  this  means  write  with  a  quiet  conscience.  It  is  the 
language  of  reservations,  equivocations,  and  lies :  it  is  a 
perfidious  language.  Heaven  be  praised !  I  cannot  find 
another  word  to  express  this  perfide  of  theirs  in  all  its  com- 
pass. Our  poor  treulos,  the  faithless  of  the  English,  are 
innocent  as  babes  beside  it.  Perfide  means  faithless  with 
pleasure,  with  insolence  and  malice.  How  enviable  is  the 
culture  of  a  nation  that  can  figure  out  so  many  shades  of 
meaning  by  a  single  word !  French  is  exactly  the  language 
of  the  world,  —  worthy  to  become  the  universal  language, 
that  all  may  have  it  in  their  power  to  cheat  and  cozen  and 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  307 

betray  each  other !  His  French  letters  were  always  smooth 
and  pleasant,  while  you  read  them.  If  you  chose  to  believe 
it,  they  sounded  warmly,  even  passionately  ;  but,  if  you  ex- 
amined narrowly,  they  were  but  phrases,  —  accursed  phrases  ! 
He  has  spoiled  my  feeling  to  the  whole  language,  to  French 
literature,  even  to  the  beautiful,  delicious  expressions  of  noble 
souls  which  may  be  found  in  it.  I  shudder  when  a  French 
word  is  spoken  in  my  hearing." 

In  such  terms  she  could  for  hours  continue  to  give  utter- 
ance to  her  chagrin,  interrupting  or  disturbing  every  other 
kind  of  conversation.  Sooner  or  later,  Serlo  used  to  put  an 
end  to  such  peevish  lamentations  by  some  bitter  sally ;  but 
by  this  means,  commonly,  the  talk  for  the  evening  was  de- 
stroyed. 

In  all  provinces  of  life,  it  is  unhappily  the  case,  that 
whatever  is  to  be  accomplished  by  a  number  of  co-operating 
men  and  circumstances  cannot  long  continue  perfect.  Of 
an  acting  company  as  well  as  of  a  kingdom,  of  a  circle  of 
friends  as  well  as  of  an  army,  you  may  commonly  select  the 
moment  when  it  may  be  said  that  all  was  standing  on  the 
highest  pinnacle  of  harmony,  perfection,  contentment,  and 
activity.  But  alterations  will  ere  long  occur ;  the  individuals 
that  compose  the  body  often  change ;  new  members  are 
added ;  the  persons  are  no  longer  suited  to  the  circum- 
stances, or  the  circumstances  to  the  persons  ;  what  was  for- 
merly united  quickly  falls  asunder.  Thus  it  was  with  Serlo's 
company.  For  a  time  you  might  have  called  it  as  complete 
as  any  German  company  could  ever  boast  of  being.  Most 
of  the  actors  were  occupying  their  proper  places :  all  had 
enough  to  do,  and  all  did  it  willingly.  Their  private  personal 
condition  was  not  bad  ;  and  each  appeared  to  promise  great 
things  in  his  art,  for  each  commenced  with  animation  and 
alacrity.  But  it  soon  became  apparent  that  a  part  of  them 
were  mere  automatons,  who  could  not  reach  beyond  what 
was  attainable  without  the  aid  of  feeling.  Nor  was  it  long 
till  grudgings  and  envyings  arose  among  them,  such  as  com- 
monly obstruct  every  good  arrangement,  and  easily  distort 
and  tear  in  pieces  every  thing  that  reasonable  and  thinking 
men  would  wish  to  keep  united. 

The  departure  of  Philina  was  not  quite  so  insignificant  as 
it  had  at  first  appeared.  She  had  always  skilfully  contrived 
to  entertain  the  manager,  and  keep  the  others  in  good  humor. 
She  had  endured  Aurelia's  violence  with  amazing  patience, 
and  her  dearest  task  had  been  to  flatter  Wilhelm.  Thus  she 


308  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

was,  in  some  respects,  a  bond  of  union  for  the  whole :  the 
loss  of  her  was  quickly  felt. 

Serlo  could  not  live  without  some  little  passion  of  the  love 
sort.  Elmira  was  of  late  grown  up,  we  might  almost  say 
grown  beautiful ;  for  some  time  she  had  been  attracting  his 
attention  :  and  Philina,  with  her  usual  dexterity,  had  favored 
this  attachment  so  soon  as  she  observed  it.  "  We  should 
train  ourselves  in  time,"  she  would  say,  "  to  the  business  of 
jprocuress :  nothing  else  remains  for  us  when  we  are  old." 
Serlo  and  Elmira  had  by  this  means  so  approximated  to  each 
other,  that,  shortly  after  the  departure  of  Philina,  both  were 
of  a  mind :  and  their  small  romance  was  rendered  doubly 
interesting,  as  they  had  to  hide  it  sedulously  from  the  father ; 
Old  Boisterous  not  understanding  jokes  of  that  description. 
Elmira's  sister  had  been  admitted  to  the  secret ;  and  Serlo 
was,  in  consequence,  obliged  to  overlook  a  multitude  of  things 
in  both  of  them.  One  of  their  worst  habits  was  an  exces- 
sive love  of  junketing, — nay,  if  you  will,  an  intolerable  glut- 
tony. In  this  respect  they  altogether  differed  from  Philina, 
to  whom  it  gave  a  new  tint  of  loveliness,  that  she  seemed, 
as  it  were,  to  live  on  air,  eating  very  little  ;  and,  for  drink, 
merely  skimming  off,  with  all  imaginable  grace,  the  foam 
from  a  glass  of  champagne. 

Now,  however,  Serlo,  if  he  meant  to  please  his  doxies, 
was  obliged  to  join  breakfast  with  dinner  ;  and  with  this,  by 
a  substantial  bever,  to  connect  the  supper.  But,  amid  gor- 
mandizing, Serlo  entertained  another  plan,  which  he  longed 
to  have  fulfilled.  He  imagined  that  he  saw  a  kind  of  attach- 
ment between  Wilhelm  and  Aurelia,  and  he  anxiously  wished 
that  it  might  assume  a  serious  shape.  He  hoped  to  cast  the 
whole  mechanical  department  of  his  theatrical  economy  on 
Wilhelm's  shoulders  ;  to  find  in  him,  as  in  the  former  brother, 
a  faithful  and  industrious  tool.  Already  he  had,  by  degrees, 
shifted  over  to  him  most  of  the  cares  of  management ;  Aure- 
lia kept  the  strong-box ;  and  Serlo  once  more  lived  as  he  had 
done  of  old,  entirely  according  to  his  humor.  Yet  there  was 
a  circumstance  which  vexed  him  in  secret,  as  it  did  his  sister 
likewise. 

The  world  has  a  particular  way  of  acting  towards  public 
persons  of  acknowledged  merit :  it  gradually  begins  to  be 
indifferent  to  them,  and  to  favor  talents  which  are  new, 
though  far  inferior ;  it  makes  excessive  requisitions  of  the 
former,  and  accepts  of  any  thing  with  approbation  from  the 
latter. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  309 

Serlo  and  Aurelia  had  opportunity  enough  to  meditate  on 
this  peculiarity.  The  strangers,  especially  the  young  and 
handsome  ones,  had  drawn  the  whole  attention  and  applause 
upon  themselves ;  and  Serlo  and  his  sister,  in  spite  of  the 
most  zealous  efforts,  had  in  general  to  make  their  exits  with- 
out the  welcome  sound  of  clapping  hands.  It  is  true,  some 
special  causes  were  at  work  on  this  occasion.  Aurelia' s 
pride  was  palpable,  and  her  contempt  for  the  public  was 
known  to  many.  Serlo,  indeed,  flattered  every  individual ; 
but  his  cutting  jibes  against  the  whole  were  often  circulated 
and  repeated.  The  new  members,  again,  were  not  only 
strangers,  unknown,  and  wanting  help,  but  some  of  them 
were  likewise  young  and  amiable :  thus  all  of  them  found 
patrons. 

Erelong,  too,  there  arose  internal  discontents,  and  many 
bickerings,  among  the  actors.  Scarcely  had  they  noticed  that 
our  friend  was  acting  as  director,  when  most  of  them  began 
to  grow  the  more  remiss,  the  more  he  strove  to  introduce  a 
better  order,  greater  accuracy,  and  chiefly  to  insist  that  every 
thing  mechanical  should  be  performed  in  the  most  strict  and 
regular  manner. 

Thus,  by  and  by,  the  whole  concern,  which  actually  for  a 
time  had  nearly  looked  ideal,  grew  as  vulgar  in  its  attributes 
as  any  mere  itinerating  theatre.  And,  unhappily,  just  as 
Wilhelm,  by  his  labor,  diligence,  and  vigorous  efforts,  had 
made  himself  acquainted  with  the  requisitions  of  the  art,  and 
trained  completely  both  his  person  and  his  habits  to  comply 
with  them,  he  began  to  feel,  in  melancholy  hours,  that  this 
craft  deserved  the  necessary  outlay  of  time  and  talents  less 
than  any  other.  The  task  was  burdensome,  the  recompense 
was  small.  He  would  rather  have  engaged  with  any  occupa- 
tion in  which,  when  the  period  of  exertion  is  passed,  one 
can  enjoy  repose  of  mind,  than  with  this,  wherein,  after 
undergoing  much  mechanical  drudgery,  the  aim  of  one's 
activity  cannot  still  be  attained  but  by  the  strongest  effort  of 
thought  and  emotion.  Besides,  he  had  to  listen  to  Aurelia's 
complaints  about  her  brother's  wastefulness  :  he  had  to  mis- 
conceive the  winks  and  nods  of  Serlo,  trying  from  afar  to 
lead  him  to  a  marriage  with  Aurelia.  He  had,  withal,  to 
hide  his  own  secret  sorrow,  which  pressed  heavy  on  his  heart, 
because  of  that  ambiguous  officer  whom  he  had  sent  in  quest 
of.  The  messenger  returned  not,  sent  no  tidings  ;  and  Wil- 
helm feared  that  his  Mariana  was  lost  to  him  a  second  time. 

About  this  period,  there  occurred  a  public  mourning,  which 


810  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

obliged  our  friends  to  shut  their  theatre  for  several  weeks. 
Wilhelm  seized  this  opportunity  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  clergy- 
man with  whom  the  harper  had  been  placed  to  board.  He 
found  him  in  a  pleasant  district ;  and  the  first  thing  that  he 
noticed  in  the  parsonage  was  the  old  man  teaching  a  boy  to 
play  upon  his  instrument.  The  harper  showed  great  joy  at 
sight  of  Wilhelm :  he  rose  held  out  his,  hand,  and  said, 
"  You  see,  I  am  still  good  for  something  in  the  world ; 
permit  me  to  continue ;  for  my  hours  are  all  distributed,  and 
full  of  business." 

The  clergyman  saluted  Wilhelm  very  kindly,  and  told  him 
that  the  harper  promised  well,  already  giving  hopes  of  a 
complete  recovery. 

Their  conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the  various  modes 
of  treating  the  insane. 

"Except  physical  derangements,"  observed  the  clergy- 
man, "  which  often  place  insuperable  difficulties  in  the  way, 
and  in  regard  to  which  I  follow  the  prescriptions  of  a  wise 
physician,  the  means  of  curing  madness  seem  to  me  ex- 
tremely simple.  They  are  the  very  means  by  which  you 
hinder  sane  persons  from  becoming  mad.  Awaken  their  ac- 
tivity ;  accustom  them  to  order ;  bring  them  to  perceive  that 
they  hold  their  being  and  their  fate  in  common  with  many  mil- 
lions ;  that  extraordinary  talents,  the  highest  happiness,  the 
deepest  misery,  are  but  slight  variations  from  the  general 
lot :  in  this  way,  no  insanity  will  enter,  or,  if  it  has  entered, 
will  gradually  disappear.  I  have  portioned  out  the  old  man's 
hours :  he  gives  lessons  to  some  children  on  the  harp ;  he 
works  in  the  garden ;  he  is  already  much  more  cheerful.  He 
wishes  to  enjoy  the  cabbages  he  plants :  my  son,  to  whom  in 
case  of  death  he  has  bequeathed  his  harp,  he  is  ardent  to 
instruct,  that  the  boy  may  be  able  to  make  use  of  his  inher- 
itance. I  have  said  but  little  to  him,  as  a  clergyman,  about 
his  wild,  mysterious  scruples ;  but  a  busy  life  brings  on  so 
many  incidents,  that  erelong  he  must  feel  how  true  it  is,  that 
doubt  of  any  kind  can  be  removed  by  nothing  but  activit}'. 
I  go  softly  to  work  :  yet,  if  I  could  get  his  beard  and  hood 
removed,  I  should  reckon  it  a  weighty  point ;  for  nothing 
more  exposes  us  to  madness  than  distinguishing  ourselves 
from  others,  and  nothing  more  contributes  to  maintain  our 
common  sense  than  living  in  the  universal  way  with  multi- 
tudes of  men.  Alas !  how  much  there  is  in  education,  in 
our  social  institutions,  to  prepare  us  and  our  children  for 
insanity !  " 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  311 

Wilhelm  staid  some  days  with  this  intelligent  divine; 
heard  from  him  many  curious  narratives,  not  of  the  insane 
alone,  but  of  persons  such  as  commonly  are  reckoned  wise 
and  rational,  though  they  may  have  peculiarities  which 
border  on  insanity. 

The  conversation  became  doubly  animated,  on  the  entrance 
of  the  doctor,  with  whom  it  was  a  custom  to  pay  frequent 
visits  to  his  friend  the  clergyman,  and  to  assist  him  in  his 
labors  of  humanity.  The  physician  was  an  oldish  man,  who, 
though  in  weak  health,  had  spent  many  years  in  the  practice 
of  the  noblest  virtues.  He  was  a  strong  advocate  for  coun- 
try life,  being  himself  scarcely  able  to  exist  except  in  the 
open  air.  Withal,  he  was  extremely  active  and  companion- 
able. For  several  years  he  had  shown  a  special  inclination 
to  make  friends  with  all  the  country  clergymen  within  his 
reach.  Such  of  these  as  were  employed  in  any  useful  oc- 
cupation he  strove  by  every  means  to  help  ;  into  others,  who 
were  still  unsettled  in  their  aims,  he  endeavored  to  infuse  a 
taste  for  some  profitable  species  of  exertion.  Being  at  the 
same  time  in  connection  with  a  multitude  of  noblemen,  ma- 
gistrates, judges,  he  had  in  the  space  of  twenty  years,  in 
secret,  accomplished  much  towards  the  advancement  of  many 
branches  of  husbandry :  he  had  done  his  best  to  put  in  motion 
every  project  that  seemed  capable  of  benefiting  agriculture, 
animals,  or  men,  and  had  thus  forwarded  improvement  in 
its  truest  sense.  "For  man,"  he  used  to  say,  "there  is 
but  one  misfortune, — when  some  idea  lays  hold  of  him,  which 
exerts  no  influence  upon  active  life,  or,  still  more,  which  with- 
draws him  from  it.  At  the  present  time,"  continued  he,  on 
this  occasion,  "  I  have  such  a  case  before  me  :  it  concerns  a 
rich  and  noble  couple,  and  hitherto  has  baffled  all  my  skill. 
The  affair  belongs  in  part  to  }-our  department,  worthy  pastor ; 
and  your  friend  here  will  forbear  to  mention  it  again. 

"  In  the  absence  of  a  certain  nobleman,  some  persons  of 
the  house,  in  a  frolic  not  entirely  commendable,  disguised  ^ 
young  man  in  the  master's  clothes.  The  lady  was  to  be, 
imposed  upon  by  this  deception ;  and,  although  it  w^s  $e- 
scribed  to  me  as  nothing  but  a  joke,  I  am  much  afraid^  j^e. 
purpose  of  it  was  to  lead  this  noble  and  mast  amiable  Jadj 
from  the  path  of  honor.  Her  husband,  however,  unexpect-; 
edly  returns  ;  enters  his  chamber ;  thinks  he  sees  his  spirit ; 
and  from  that  time  falls  into  a  melancholy  temper,  firmly 
believing  that  his  death  is  near. 

"  He  has  now  abandoned  himself  to  men  who  pamper 


312  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

him  with  religious  ideas  ;  and  I  see  not  how  he  is  to  be  pre- 
vented from  going  among  the  Hernhuters  with  his  lady, 
and,  as  he  has  no  children,  from  depriving  his  relations  of 
the  chief  p'art  of  his  fortune." 

"With  his  lady?"  cried  our  friend  in  great  agitation-, 
for  this  story  had  frightened  him  extremely. 

"And,  alas !  "  replied  the  doctor,  who  regarded  Wilhelm's 
exclamation  only  as  the  voice  of  common  sympathy,  "this 
lady  is  herself  possessed  with  a  deeper  sorrow,  which  renders 
a  removal  from  the  world  desirable  to  her  also.  The  same 
young  man  was  taking  leave  of  her ;  she  was  not  circumspect 
enough  to  hide  a  nascent  inclination  towards  him  ;  the  youth 
grew  bolder,  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  a  large 
portrait  of  her  husband,  which  was  set  with  diamonds, 
forcibly  against  her  breast.  She  felt  a  sharp  pain,  which 
gradually  went  off,  leaving  first  a  little  redness,  then  no 
trace  at  all.  As  a  man,  I  am  convinced  that  she  has  nothing 
further  to  reproach  herself  with,  in  this  affair ;  as  a  physician, 
I  am  certain  that  this  pressure  could  not  have  the  smallest 
ill  effect.  Yet  she  will  not  be  persuaded  that  an  induration 
is  not  taking  place  in  the  part ;  and,  if  you  try  to  overcome 
her  notion  b}*  the  evidence  of  feeling,  she  maintains,  that, 
though  the  evil  is  away  this  moment,  it  will  return  the  next. 
She  conceives  that  the  disease  will  end  in  cancer,  and  thus 
her  youth  and  loveliness  be  altogether  lost  to  others  and 
herself." 

"  Wretch  that  I  am !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  striking  his  brow, 
and  rushing  from  the  company  into  the  fields.  He  had  never 
felt  himself  in  such  a  miserable  case. 

The  clergyman  and  the  physician  were  of  course  exceed- 
ingly astonished  at  this  singular  discovery.  In  the  evening 
all  their  skill  was  called  for,  when  our  friend  returned,  and, 
with  a  circumstantial  disclosure  of  the  whole  occurrence, 
uttered  the  most  violent  accusations  of  himself.  Both  look 
interest  in  him  :  both  felt  a  real  concern  about  his  general 
condition,  particularly  as  he  painted  it  in  the  gloomy  colors 
which  arose  from  the  humor  of  the  moment. 

Next  day  the  physician,  without  much  entreaty,  was  pre- 
vailed upon  to  accompany  him  in  his  return ;  both  that  he 
might  bear  him  company,  and  that  he  might,  if  possibla,  do 
something  for  Aurelia,  whom  our  friend  had  left  in  rather 
dangerous  circumstances. 

In  fact,  they  found  her  worse  than  they  expected.  She 
was  afflicted  with  a  sort  of  intermittent  fever,  which  could 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  313 

the  less  be  mastered,  as  she  purposely  maintained  and  ag- 
gravated the  attacks  of  it.  The  stranger  was  not  introduced 
as  a  physician :  he  behaved  with  great  courteousness  and 
prudence.  They  conversed  about  her  situation,  bodily  and 
mental :  her  new  friend  related  many  anecdotes  of  persons 
who,  in  spite  of  lingering  disorders,  had  attained  a  good  old 
age ;  adding,  that,  in  such  cases,  nothing  could  be  more 
injurious  than  the  intentional  recalling  of  passionate  and 
disagreeable  emotions.  In  particular  he  stated,  that,  for 
persons  laboring  under  chronical  and  partly  incurable  dis- 
tempers, he  had  always  found  it  a  very  happy  circumstance 
when  they  chanced  to  entertain,  and  cherish  in  their  minds, 
true  feelings  of  religion.  This  he  signified  in  the  most  un- 
obtrusive manner,  as  it  were  historically  ;  promising  Aurelia 
at  the  same  time  the  reading  of  a  very  interesting  manuscript, 
which  he  said  he  had  received  from  the  hands  of  an  excellent 
lady  of  his  friends,  who  was  now  deceased.  "To  me,"  he 
said,  "  it  is  of  uncommon  value  ;  and  I  shall  trust  you  even 
with  the  original.  Nothing  but  the  title  is  in  my  hand- 
writing: I  have  called  it,  'Confessions  of  a  Fair  Saint. '_" 

Touching  the  medical  and  dietetic  treatment  of  the  racked 
and  hapless  patient,  he  also  left  his  best  advice  with  Wilhelm. 
He  then  departed ;  promising  to  write,  and,  if  possible,  to 
come  again  in  person. 

Meanwhile,  in  Wilhelm's  absence,  there  had  changes  been 
preparing  such  as  he  was  not  aware  of.  During  his  director- 
ship, our  friend  had  managed  all  things  with  a  certain 
liberality  and  freedom ;  looking  chiefly  at  the  main  result. 
Whatever  was  required  for  dresses,  decorations,  and  the  like, 
he  had  usually  provided  in  a  plentiful  and  handsome  style ; 
and,  for  securing  the  co-operation  of  his  people,  he  had 
flattered  their  self-interest,  since  he  could  not  reach  them  by 
nobler  motives.  In  this  he  felt  his  conduct  justified  the 
more  ;  as  Serlo  for  his  own  part  never  aimed  at  being  a  strict 
economist,  but  liked  to  hear  the  beauty  of  his  theatre  com- 
mended, and  was  contented  if  Aurelia,  who  conducted  the 
domestic  matters,  on  defraying  all  expenses,  signified  that 
she  was  free  from  debt,  and  could  besides  afford  the  neces- 
sary sums  for  clearing  off  such  scores  as  Serlo  in  the  interim, 
by  lavish  kindness  to  his  mistresses  or  otherwise,  might  have 
incurred. 

Melina,  who  was  charged  with  managing  the  wardrobe, 
had  all  the  while  been  silently  considering  these  things,  with 
the  cold,  spiteful  temper  peculiar  to  him.  On  occasion  of  our 


314  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

friend's  departure,  and  Aurelia's  increasing  sickness,  he  con- 
trived to  signify  to  Serlo,  that  more  money  might  be  raised 
and  less  expended,  and,  consequently,  something  be  laid  up, 
or  at  least  a  merrier  life  be  led.  Serlo  hearkened  gladly 
to  such  allegations,  and  Melina  risked  the  exhibition  of  his 
plan. 

"  I  will  not  say,"  continued  he,  "  that  any  of  your  actors 
has  at  present  too  much  salary :  they  are  meritorious  people, 
they  would  find  a  welcome  anywhere ;  but,  for  the  income 
which  they  bring  us  in,  they  have  too  much.  My  project 
would  be,  to  set  up  an  opera ;  and,  as  to  what  concerns  the 
playhouse,  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  it,  you  are  the  person 
for  maintaining  that  establishment  upon  your  single  strength. 
Observe  how  at  present  your  merits  are  neglected  ;  and  jus- 
tice is  refused  you,  not  because  your  fellow-actors  are  excel- 
lent, but  merely  good. 

"  Come  out  alone,  as  used  to  be  the  case ;  endeavor  to 
attract  around  you  middling,  I  will  even  say  inferior  people, 
for  a  slender  salary ;  regale  the  public  with  mechanical  dis- 
plays, as  you  can  so  cleverly  do ;  apply  your  remaining 
means  to  the  opera,  which  I  am  talking  of ;  and  you  will 
quickly  see,  that,  with  the  same  labor  and  expense,  you  will 
give  greater  satisfaction,  while  you  draw  incomparably  more 
money  than  at  present." 

These  observations  were  so  flattering  to  Serlo,  that  they 
could  not  fail  of  making  some  impression  on  him.  He  readily 
admitted,  that,  loving  music  as  he  did,  he  had  long  wished 
for  some  arrangement  such  as  this ;  though  he  could  not 
but  perceive  that  the  public  taste  would  thus  be  still  more 
widely  led  astray,  and  that  with  such  a  mongrel  theatre,  not 
properly  an  opera,  not  properly  a  playhouse,  any  residue  of 
true  feeling  for  regular  and  perfect  works  of  art  must  shortly 
disappear. 

Melina  ridiculed,  in  terms  more  plain  than  delicate,  our 
friend's  pedantic  notions  in  this  matter,  and  his  vain  attempts 
to  form  the  public  mind,  instead  of  being  formed  by  it :  Serlo 
and  he  at  last  agreed,  with  full  conviction,  that  the  sole  con- 
cern was,  how  to  gather  money,  and  grow  rich,  or  live  a 
joj-ous  life ;  and  they  scarcely  concealed  their  wish  to  be 
delivered  from  those  persons  who  at  present  hindered  them. 
Melina  took  occasion  to  lament  Aurelia's  weak  health,  and  the 
speedy  end  which  it  threatened  ;  thinking  all  the  while  directly 
the  reverse.  Serlo  affected  to  regret  that  Wilhelm  could  not 
sing,  thus  signifying  that  his  presence  was  by  no  means 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  315 

indispensable.  Melina  then  came  forward  with  a  whole  cat- 
alogue of  savings,  which,  he  said,  might  be  effected ;  and 
Serlo  saw  in  him  his  brother-in-law  replaced  threefold.  They 
both  felt  that  secrecy  was  necessary  in  the  matter,  but  this 
mutual  obligation  only  joined  them  closer  in  their  interests. 
They  failed  not  to  converse  together  privately  on  every  thing 
that  happened ;  to  blame  whatever  Wilhelm  or  Aurelia  un- 
dertook ;  and  to  elaborate  their  own  project,  and  prepare  it 
more  and  more  for  execution. 

Silent  as  they  both  might  be  about  their  plan,'  little  as 
their  words  betrayed  them,  in  their  conduct  they  were  not  so 
politic  as  constantly  to  hide  their  purposes.  Melina  now 
opposed  our  friend  in  many  points  that  lay  within  the  prov- 
ince of  the  latter ;  and  Serlo,  who  had  never  acted  smoothly 
to  his  sister,  seemed  to  grow  more  bitter  the  more  her  sick- 
ness deepened,  the  more  her  passionate  and  variable  humors 
would  have  needed  toleration. 

About  this  period  they  took  up  the  "  Emilie  Galotti"  of 
Lessing.  The  parts  were  very  happily  distributed  and  filled  : 
within  the  narrow  circle  of  this  tragedy,  the  company  found 
room  for  showing  all  the  complex  riches  of  their  acting. 
Serlo,  in  the  character  of  Marinelli,  was  altogether  in  his 
place ;  Odoardo  was  very  well  exhibited ;  Madam  Melina 
played  the  Mother  with  considerable  skill ;  Elmira  gained 
distinction  as  Emilie ;  Laertes  made  a  stately  Appiani ;  and 
Wilhelm  had  bestowed  the  study  of  some  months  upon  the 
Prince's  part.  On  this  occasion,  both  internally  and  with 
Aurelia  and  Serlo,  he  had  often  come  upon  this  question : 
What  is  the  distinction  between  a  noble  and  a  well-bred 
manner?  and  how  far  must  the  former  be  included  in  the 
latter,  though  the  latter  is  not  in  the  former? 

Serlo,  who  himself  in  Marinelli  had  to  act  the  courtier  ac- 
curately, without  caricature,  afforded  him  some  valuable 
thoughts  on  this.  "A  well-bred  carriage,"  he  would  say, 
"  is  difficult  to  imitate ;  for  in  strictness  it  is  negative,  and 
ft  implies  a  long-continued  previous  training.  You  are  not 
required  to  exhibit  in  your  manner  any  thing  that  specially 
betokens  dignity ;  for,  by  this  means,  you  are  like  to  run 
into  formality  and  haughtiness :  you  are  rather  to  avoid 
whatever  is  undignified  and  vulgar.  You  are  never  to  for- 
get yourself ;  are  to  keep  a  constant  watch  upon  yourself 
and  others  ;  to  forgive  nothing  that  is  faulty  in  your  own 
conduct,  in  that  of  others  neither  to  forgive  too  little  nor 
too  much.  Nothing  must  appear  to  touch  you,  nothing  to 


316  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

agitate :  you  must  never  overhaste  yourself,  must  ever  keep 
yourself  composed,  retaining  still  an  outward  calmness, 
whatever  storms  may  rage  within.  The  noble  character  at 
certain  moments  may  resign  himself  to  his  emotions ;  the 
well-bred  never.  The  latter  is  like  a  man  dressed  out  in 
fair  and  spotless  clothes:  he  will  not  lean  on  any  thing; 
every  person  will  beware  of  rubbing  on  him.  He  distin- 
guishes himself  from  others,  yet  he  may  not  stand  apart ; 
for  as  in  all  arts,  so  in  this,  the  hardest  must  at  length  be 
done  with  ease  :  the  well-bred  man  of  rank,  in  spite  of  every 
separation,  always  seems  united  with  the  people  round  him  ; 
he  is  never  to  be  stiff  or  uncomplying ;  he  is  always  to  ap- 
pear the  first,  and  never  to  insist  on  so  appearing. 

"  It  is  clear,  then,  that,  to  seem  well-bred,  a  man  must 
actually  be  so.  It  is  also  clear  why  women  generally  are 
more  expert  at  taking  up  the  air  of  breeding  than  the  other 
sex;  why  courtiers  and  soldiers  catch  it  more  easily  than 
other  men." 

Wilhelm  now  despaired  of  doing  justice  to  his  part ;  but 
Serlo  aided  and  encouraged  him,  communicated  the  acutest 
observations  on  detached  points,  and  furnished  him  so  well, 
that,  on  the  exhibition  of  the  piece,  the  public  reckoned  him 
a  very  proper  Prince. 

Serlo  had  engaged  to  give  him,  when  the  play  was  over, 
such  remarks  as  might  occur  upon  his  acting :  a  disagreea- 
ble contention  with  Aurelia  prevented  any  conversation  of 
that  kind.  Aurelia  had  acted  the  character  of  Orsina,  in  such 
a  style  as  few  have  ever  done.  She  was  well  acquainted  with 
the  part,  and  during  the  rehearsals  she  had  treated  it  indiffer- 
ently :  but,  in  the  exhibition  of  the  piece,  she  had  opened,  as 
it  were,  all  the  sluices  of  her  personal  sorrow  ;  and  the  char- 
acter was  represented  so  as  never  poet  in  the  first  glow  of 
invention  could  have  figured  it.  A  boundless  applause  re- 
warded her  painful  efforts  ;  but  her  friends,  on  visiting  her 
when  the  play  was  finished,  found  her  half  fainting  in  her 
chair. 

Serlo  had  already  signified  his  anger  at  her  overcharged 
acting,  as  he  called  it ;  at  this  disclosure  of  her  inmost  heart 
before  the  public,  to  many  individuals  of  which  the  history 
of  her  fatal  passion  was  more  or  less  completely  known. 
He  had  spoken  bitterly  and  fiercely ;  grinding  with  his  teeth 
and  stamping  with  his  feet,  as  was  his  custom  when  enraged. 
"  Never  mind  her,"  cried  he,  when  he  saw  her  in  the  chair, 
surrounded  by  the  rest:  "  she  will  go  upon  the  stage  stark- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  317 

naked  one  of  these  days,  and  then  the  approbation  will  be 
perfect." 

"Ungrateful,  inhuman  man!"  exclaimed  she:  "soon 
shall  I  be  carried  naked  to  the  place  where  approbation  or 
disapprobation  can  no  longer  reach  our  ears  !  "  With  these 
words  she  started  up,  and  hastened  to  the  door.  The  maid 
had  not  yet  brought  her  mantle  ;  the  sedan  was  not  in  wait- 
ing ;  it  had  been  raining  lately ;  a  cold,  raw  wind  was  blow- 
ing through  the  streets.  They  endeavored  to  persuade*  her 
to  remain,  for  she  was  very  warm.  But  in  vain :  she  pur- 
posely walked  slow ;  she  praised  the  coolness,  seemed  to  in- 
hale it  with  peculiar  eagerness.  No  sooner  was  she  home, 
than  she  became  so  hoarse  that  she  could  hardly  speak  a 
word  :  she  did  not  mention  that  there  was  a  total  stiffness  in 
her  neck  and  .along  her  back.  Shortly  afterwards  a  sort  of 
palsy  in  the  tongue  came  on,  so  that  she  pronounced  one 
word  instead  of  another.  They  put  her  to  bed  :  by  numer- 
ous and  copious  remedies,  the  evil  changed  its  form,  but 
was  not  mastered.  The  fever  gathered  strength :  her  case 
was  dangerous. 

Next  morning  she  enjoyed  a  quiet  hour.  She  sent  for 
Wilhelm,  and  delivered  him  a  letter.  "This  sheet,"  said 
she,  "has  long  been  waiting  for  the  present  moment.  I 
feel  that  my  end  is  drawing  nigh :  promise  me  that  you 
yourself  will  take  this  paper ;  that,  by  a  word  or  two,  you 
will  avenge  my  sorrows  on  the  faithless  man.  He  is  not 
void  of  feeling :  my  death  will  pain  him  for  a  moment." 

Wilhelm  took  the  letter ;  still  endeavoring  to  console  her, 
and  to  drive  away  the  thought  of  death. 

"  No,"  said  she  :  "  do  not  deprive  me  of  my  nearest  hope. 
I  have  waited  for  him  long :  I  will  joyfully  clasp  him  when 
he  comes." 

Shortly  after  this  the  manuscript  arrived  which  the  phy- 
sician had  engaged  to  send  her.  She  called  for  Wilhelm,  — 
made  him  read  it  to  her.  The  effect  which  it  produced  upon 
her,  the  reader  will  be  better  able  to  appreciate  after  look- 
ing at  the  following  Book.  The  violent  and  stubborn  temper 
of  our  poor  Aurelia  was  mollified  by  hearing  it.  She  took 
back  the  letter,  and  wrote  another,  as  it  seemed,  in  a  meeker 
tone ;  charging  Wilhelm  at  the  same  time  to  console  her 
friend,  if  he  should  be  distressed  about  her  death ;  to  assure 
him  that  she  had  forgiven  him,  and  wished  him  every  kind 
of  happiness. 

From  this  time  she  was  very  quiet,  and  appeared  to  oc- 


318  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

cupy  herself  with  but  a  few  ideas,  which  she  endeavored  to 
extract  and  appropriate  from  the  manuscript,  out  of  which 
she  frequently  made  Wilhelm  read  to  her.  The  decay  of 
her  strength  was  not  perceptible :  nor  had  Wilhelm  been 
anticipating  the  event,  when  one  morning,  as  he  went  to  visit 
her,  he  found  that  she  was  dead. 

Entertaining  such  respect  for  her  as  he  had  done,  and 
accustomed  as  he  was  to  live  in  her  society,  the  loss  of  her 
affected  him  with  no  common  sorrow.  She  was  the  only 
person  that  had  truly  wished  him  well :  the  coldness  of  Serlo 
he  had  felt  of  late  but  too  keenly.  He  hastened,  therefore, 
to  perform  the  service  she  had  intrusted  to  him :  he  wished 
to  be  absent  for  a  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  journey  was  exceedingly  con- 
venient for  Melina :  in  the  course  of  his  extensive  corre- 
spondence, he  had  lately  entered  upon  terms  with  a  male 
and  a  female  singer,  who,  it  was  intended,  should,  by  their 
performances  in  interludes,  prepare  the  public  for  his  future 
opera.  The  loss  of  Aurelia,  and  Wilhelm's  absence,  were 
to  be  supplied  in  this  manner ;  and  our  friend  was  satisfied 
with  any  thing  that  could  facilitate  his  setting  out. 

He  had  formed,  within  himself,  a  singular  idea  of  the  im- 
portance of  his  errand.  The  death  of  his  unhappy  friend 
had  moved  him  deeply  ;  and,  having  seen  her  pass  so  early 
from  the  scene,  he  could  not  but  be  hostilely  inclined  against 
the  man  who  had  abridged  her  life,  and  made  that  shortened 
term  so  full  of  woe. 

Notwithstanding  the  last  mild  words  of  the  dying  woman, 
he  resolved,  that,  on  delivering  his  letter,  he  would  pass  a 
strict  sentence  on  her  faithless  friend ;  and,  not  wishing  to 
depend  upon  the  temper  of  the  moment,  he  studied  an  ad- 
dress, which,  in  the  course  of  preparation,  became  more 
pathetic  than  just.  Having  fully  convinced  himself  of  the 
good  composition  of  his  essay,  he  began  committing  it  to 
memory,  and  at  the  same  time  making  ready  for  departure. 
Mignon  was  present  as  he  packed  his  articles :  she  asked 
him  whether  he  intended  travelling  south  or  north  ;  and,  learn- 
ing that  it  was  the  latter,  she  replied,  "  Then,  I  will  wait  here 
for  thee."  She  begged  of  him  the  pearl  necklace  which  had 
once  been  Mariana's.  He  could  not  refuse  to  gratify  the 
dear  little  creature,  and  he  gave  it  her :  the.  neckerchief  she 
had  already.  On  the  other  hand,  she  put  the  veil  of  Ham- 
let's Ghost  into  his  travelling-bag ;  though  he  told  her  it 
could  not  be  of  any  service  to  him. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  319 

Melina  took  upon  him  the  directorship :  his  wife  engaged 
to  keep  a  mother's  eye  upon  the  children,  whom  Wilhelm 
parted  with  unwillingly.  Felix  was  very  merry  at  the  set- 
ting out ;  and,  when  asked  what  pretty  thing  he  wished  to 
have  brought  back  for  him,  he  said,  "  Hark  you  !  bring  me 
a  papa !  "  Migno'n  seized  the  traveller's  hand  ;  then,  stand- 
ing on  her  tiptoes,  she  pressed  a  warm  and  cordial,  though 
not  a  tender,  kiss,  upon  his  lips,  and  cried,  "  Master !  forget 
us  not,  and  come  soon  back." 

And  so  we  leave  our  friend,  entering  on  his  journey,  amid 
a  thousand  different  thoughts  and  feelings ;  and  here  sub- 
join, by  way  of  close,  a  little  poem,  which  Mignon  had  re- 
cited once  or  twice  with  great  expressiveness,  and  which  the 
hurry  of  so  many  singular  occurrences  prevented  us  from 
inserting  sooner :  — 

"  Not  speech,  bid  silence,  I  implore  thee; 

For  secrecy's  my  duty  still: 
My  heart  entire  I'd  fain  lay  bare  before  thee, 
But  such  is  not  of  fate  the  will. 

In  season  due  the  sun's  course  backward  throws 
Dark  night;  ensue  must  light;  the  mountain's 

Hard  rock,  at  length,  its  bosom  doth  unclose, 
Now  grudging  earth  no  more  the  hidden  fountains. 

Each  seeks  repose  upon  a  friend's  true  breast, 
Where  by  laments  he  frees  his  bosom  lonely ; 

Whereas  an  oath  my  lips  hold  closely  pressed, 
The  which  to  speech  a  God  can  open  only." 

—  Editor's  Version. 


320  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK  YL 


CONFESSIONS  OF  A  FAIR  SAINT. 

TILL  my  eighth  year  I  was  always  a  healthy  child,  but  of 
that  period  I  can  recollect  no  more  than  of  the  day  when  I 
was  born.  About  the  beginning  of  my  eighth  year,  I  was 
seized  with  a  hemorrhage ;  and  from  that  moment  my  soul 
became  all  feeling,  all  memory.  The  smallest  circumstances 
of  that  accident  are  yet  before  my  eyes  as  if  they  had  oc- 
curred but  yesterday. 

During  the  nine  months  which  I  then  spent  patiently  upon 
a  sick-bed,  it  appears  to  me  the  groundwork  of  my  whole 
turn  of  thought  was  laid ;  as  the  first  means  were  then 
afforded  my  mind  of  developing  itself  in  its'  own  manner. 

I  suffered  and  I  loyed :  this  was  the  peculiar  form  of  my 
heart.  In  the  most  violent  fits  of  coughing,  in  the  depress- 
ing pains  of  fever,  I  lay  quiet,  like  a  snail  drawn  back  within 
its  house :  the  moment  I  obtained  a  respite,  I  wanted  to 
enjoy  something  pleasant ;  and,  as  every  other  pleasure  was 
denied  me,  I  endeavored  to  amuse  myself  with  the  innocent 
delights  of  eye  and  ear.  The  people  brought  me  dolls  and 
picture-books,  and  whoever  would  sit  by  my  bed  was  obliged 
to  tell  me  something. 

From  my  mother  I  rejoiced  to  hear  the  Bible  histories,  and 
my  father  entertained  me  with  natural  curiosities.  He  had  a 
very  pretty  cabinet,  from  which  he  brought  me  first  one 
drawer  and  then  another,  as  occasion  served ;  showing  me 
the  articles,  and  pointing  out  their  properties.  Dried  plants 
and  insects,  with  many  kinds  of  anatomical  preparations, 
such  as  human  skin,  bones,  mummies,  and  the  like,  were  in 
succession  laid  upon  the  sick-bed  of  the  little  one  ;  the  birds 
and  animals  he  killed  in  hunting  were  shown  to  me,  before 
they  passed  into  the  kitchen ;  and,  that  the  Prince  of  the 
World  might  also  have  a  voice  in  this  assembly,  my  aunt  re- 
lated to  me  love-adventures  out  of  fairy-tales.  All  was 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  321 

accepted,  all  took  root.  There  were  hours  in  which  I  vividly 
conversed  with  the  Invisible  Power.  I  can  still  repeat  some 
verses  which  I  then  dictated,  and  my  mother  wrote  down. 

Often  I  would  tell  my  father  back  again  what  I  had 
learned  from  him.  Rarely  did  I  take  any  physic  without 
asking  where  the  simples  it  was  made  of  grew,  what  look 
they  had,  what  names  they  bore.  Nor  had  the  stories  of  my 
aunt  lighted  on  stony  ground.  I  figured  myself  out  in  pretty 
clothes,  and  met  the  most  delightful  princes,  who  could  find 
no  peace  or  rest  till  they  discovered  who  the  unknown  beauty 
was.  One  adventure  of  this  kind,  with  a  charming  little 
angel  dressed  in  white,  with  golden  wings,  who  warmly 
courted  me,  I  dwelt  upon  so  long,  that  my  imagination 
painted  out  his  form  almost  to  visibility. 

After  a  year  I  was  pretty  well  restored  to  health,  but 
nothing  of  the  giddiness  of  childhood  remained  with  me.  I 
could  not  play  with  dolls  :  I  longed  for  beings  able  to  return 
my  love.  Dogs,  cats,  and  birds,  of  which  my  father  kept  a 
great  variety,  afforded  me  delight ;  but  what  would  I  have 
given  for  such  a  creature  as  my  aunt  once  told  me  of !  It 
was  a  lamb  which  a  peasant-girl  took  up  and  nourished  in  a 
wood ;  but,  in  the  guise  of  this  pretty  beast,  an  enchanted 
prinv'e  was  hid,  who  at  length  appeared  in  his  native  shape, 
a  lovoly  youth,  and  rewarded  his  benefactress  by  his  hand. 
Such  .-v  lamb  I  would  have  given  the  world  for. 

But  there  was  none  to  be  had  ;  and,  as  every  thing  about  me 
went  oa  in  such  a  quite  natural  manner,  I  by  degrees  all  but 
abandoned  nearly  all  hopes  of  such  a  treasure.  Meanwhile 
I  comforted  myself  by  reading  books  in  which  the  strangest 
incidents  were  set  forth.  Among  them  all,  my  favorite  was 
the  "  Christian  German  Hercules  :  "  that  devout  love-history 
was  altogether  in  my  way.  Whenever  any  thing  befell  his 
dear  Valiska,  and  cruel  things  befell  her,  he  always  prayed 
before  hastening  to  her  aid ;  and  the  prayers  stood  there 
verbatim.  My  longing  after  the  Invisible,  which  I  had  always 
dimly  felt,  was  strengthened  by  such  means ;  for,  in  short, 
it  was  o. 'darned  that  God  should  also  be  my  confidant. 

As  I  >jrew  older  I  continued  reading,  Heaven  knows  what, 
in  chaot'C  order.  The  "  Roman  Octavia"  was  the  book  I  liked 
beyond  all  others.  The  persecutions  of  the  first  Christians, 
decorated  with  the  charms  of  a  romance,  awoke  the  deepest 
interest  in  me. 

But  luy  mother  now  began  to  murmur  at  my  constant  read- 
ing ;  and,  to  humor  her,  my  father  took  away  my  books  to- 


322  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

clay,  but  gave  them  back  to-morrow.  She  was  wise  enough 
to  see  that  nothing  could  be  done  in  this  way :  she  next  in- 
sisted merely  that  my  Bible  should  be  read  with  equal  dili- 
gence. To  this  I  was  not  disinclined,  and  I  accordingly 
perused  the  sacred  volume  with  a  lively  interest.  Withal 
my  mother  was  extremely  careful  that  no  books  of  a  corrup- 
tive  tendency  should  come  into  my  hands  :  immodest  writings 
I  would,  of  my  own  accord,  have  cast  away  ;  for  my  princes 
and  my  princesses  were  all  extremely  virtuous. 

To  my  mother,  and  my  zeal  for  knowledge,  it  was  owing, 
that,  with  all  my  love  of  books,  I  also  learned  to  cook ;  for 
much  was  to  be  seen  in  cookery.  To  cut  up  a  hen,  a  pig, 
was  quite  a  feast  for  me.  I  used  to  bring  the  entrails  to  my 
father,  and  he  talked  with  me  about  them  as  if  I  had  been  a 
student  of  anatomy.  With  suppressed  joy  he  would  often 
call  me  his  misfashioned  son. 

I  had  passed  my  twelfth  year.  I  learned  French,  dancing, 
and  drawing :  I  received  the  usual  instructions  in  religion. 
In  the  latter,  many  thoughts  and  feelings  were  awakened, 
but  nothing  properly  relating  to  my  own  condition.  I  liked 
to  hear  the  people  speak  of  God :  I  was  proud  that  I  could 
speak  on  these  points  better  than  my  equals.  I  zealously 
read  many  books  which  put  me  in  a  condition  to  talk  about 
religion ;  but  it  never  once  struck  me  to  think  how  matters 
stood  with  me,  whether  my  soul  was  formed  according  to 
these  holy  precepts,  whether  it  was  like  a  glass  from  which 
the  everlasting  sun  could  be  reflected  in  its  glancing.  From 
the  first  I  had  presupposed  all  this. 

My  French  I  learned  with  eagerness.  My  teacher  was  a 
clever  man.  He  was  not  a  vain  empiric,  not  a  dry  gram- 
marian :  he  had  learning,  he  had  seen  the  world.  Instruct- 
ing me  in  language,  he  satisfied  my  zeal  for  knowledge  in 
a  thousand  ways.  I  loved  him  so  much,  that  I  used  to  wait 
his  coming  with  a  palpitating  heart.  Drawing  was  not  hard 
for  me  :  I  should  have  made  greater  progress  had  my  teacher 
possessed  head  and  science  ;  he  had  only  hands  and  practice. 

Dancing  was  at  first  one  of  my  smallest  amusements ; 
my  body  was  too  sensitive  for  it ;  I  learned  it  only  in  the 
company  of  my  sisters.  But  our  dancing-master  took  a 
thought  of  gathering  all  his  scholars,  male  and  female,  and 
giving  them  a  ball.  This  event  gave  dancing  quite  another 
charm  for  me. 

Amid  a  throng  of  boys  and  girls,  the  most  remarkable 
were  two  sons  of  the  marshal  of  the  court.  The  youngest 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  323 

was  of  my  age  ;  the  other,  two  years  older :  they  were  chil- 
dren of  such  beauty,  that,  according  to  the  universal  voice, 
no  one  had  seen  their  like.  For  my  part,  scarcely  had  I  no- 
ticed them  when  I  lost  sight  of  all  the  other  crowd.  From 
that  moment  I  began  to  dance  with  care,  and  to  wish  that  I 
could  dance  with  grace.  How  came  it,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  these  two  boys  distinguished  me  from  all  the  rest  ?  No 
matter :  before  an  hour  had  passed  we  had  become  the 
warmest  friends,  and  our  little  entertainment  did  -not  end 
till  we  had  fixed  upon  the  time  and  place  where  we  were 
next  to  meet.  What  a  joy  for  me  !  And  how  charmed  was 
I  next  morning  when  both  of  them  inquired  for  my  health, 
each  in  a  gallant  note,  accompanied  with  a  nosegay  !  I  have 
never  since  felt  as  I  then  did.  Compliment  was  met  by  com- 
pliment :  letter  answered  letter.  The  church  and  the  public- 
walks  were  grown  a  rendezvous ;  our  young  acquaintances, 
in  all  their  little  parties,  now  invited  us  together ;  while,  at 
the  same  time,  we  were  sly  enough  to  veil  the  business  from 
our  parents,  so  that  they  saw  no  more  of  it  than  we  thought 
good. 

Thus  had  I  at  once  got  a  pair  of  lovers.  I  had  yet  decided 
upon  neither :  they  both  pleased  me,  and  we  did  extremely 
well  together.  All  at  once  the  eldest  of  the  two  fell  very 
sick.  I  myself  had  often  been  sick ;  and  thus  I  was  ena- 
bled, by  rendering  him  many  little  dainties  and  delicacies 
suited  for  a  sick  person,  to  afford  some  solace  to  the  sufferer. 
His  parents  thankfully  acknowledged  my  attention  :  in  com- 
pliance with  the  prayer  of  their  beloved  son,  they  invited  me, 
with  all  my  sisters,  to  their  house  so  soon  as  he  had  arisen 
from  his  sick-bed.  The  tenderness  which  he  displayed  on 
meeting  me  was  not  the  feeling  of  a  child  :  from  that  day  I 
gave  the  preference  to  him.  He  warned  me  to  keep  our 
secret  from  his  brother ;  but  the  flame  could  no  longer  be 
concealed,  and  the  jealousy  of  the  younger  completed  our 
romance.  He  played  us  a  thousand  tricks :  eager  to  annihi- 
late our  joys,  he  but  increased  the  passion  he  was  seeking  to 
destroy. 

At  last  I  had  actually  found  the  wished-for  lamb,  and  this 
attachment  acted  on  me  like  my  sickness  :  it  made  me  calm, 
and  drew  me  back  from  noisy  pleasures.  I  was  solitary,  I 
was  moved ;  and  thoughts  of  God  again  occurred  to  me. 
He  was  again  my  confidant ;  and  I  well  remember  with  what 
tears  I  often  prayed  for  this  poor  boy,  who  still  continued 
sickly. 


324  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

The  more  childishness  there  was  in  this  adventure,  the 
more  did  it  contribute  to  the  forming  of  my  heart.  Our 
French  teacher  had  now  turned  us  from  translating  into  daily 
writing  him  some  letter  of  our  own  invention.  I  brought  my 
little  history  to  market,  shrouded  in  the  names  of  Phyllis  and 
Damon.  The  old  man  soon  saw  through  it,  and,  to  render 
me  communicative,  praised  my  labor  very  much.  I  still 
waxed  bolder;  came  openly  out  with  the  affair,  adhering, 
even  in  the  minute  details,  to  truth.  I  do  not  now  remember 
what  the  passage  was  at  which  he  took  occasion  to  remark, 
"  How  pretty,  how  natural,  it  is  !  But  the  good  Phyllis  had 
better  have  a  care :  the  thing  may  soon  grow  serious." 

I  felt  vexed  that  he  did  not  look  upon  the  matter  as  al- 
ready serious ;  and  I  asked  him,  with  an  air  of  pique,  what 
he  meant  by  serious.  I  had  not  to  repeat  the  question  :  he 
explained  himself  so  clearly,  that  I  could  scarcely  hide  my 
terror.  Yet  as  anger  came  along  with  it,  as  I  took  it  ill 
that  he  should  entertain  such  thoughts,  I  kept  myself  com- 
posed :  I  tried  to  justify  my  nymph,  and  said,  with  glowing 
cheeks,  "But,  sir,  Phyllis  is  an  honorable  girl." 

He  was  rogue  enough  to  banter  me  about  my  honorable 
heroine.  While  we  were  speaking  French,  he  played  upon 
the  word  honn&te,  and  hunted  the  honorableness  of  Phyllis 
over  all  its  meanings.  I  felt  the  ridicule  of  this,  and  ex- 
tremely puzzled.  He,  not  to  frighten  me,  broke  off,  but 
afterwards  often  led  the  conversation  to  such  topics.  Plays, 
and  little  histories,  such  as  I  was  reading  and  translating 
with  him,  gave  him  frequent  opportunity  to  show  how  feeble 
a  security  against  the  calls  of  inclination  our  boasted  virtue 
was.  I  no  longer  contradicted  him,  but  I  was  in  secret 
scandalized ;  and  his  remarks  became  a  burden  to  me. 

With  my  worthy  Damon,  too,  I  by  degrees  fell  out  of  all 
connection.  The  chicanery  of  the  younger  boy  destroyed 
our  intercourse.  Soon  after,  both  these  blooming  creatures 
died.  I  lamented  sore  :  however,  in  a  short  time,  I  forgot. 

But  Phyllis  rapidly  increased  in  stature,  was  altogether 
healthy,  and  began  to  see  the  world.  The  hereditary  prince 
now  married,  and  a  short  time  after,  on  his  father's  death, 
began  his  rule.  Court  and  town  were  in  the  liveliest  motion  : 
my  curiosity  had  copious  nourishment.  There  were  plays 
and  balls,  with  all  their  usual  accompaniments  ;  and,  though 
my  parents  kept  retired  as  much  as  possible,  they  were 
obliged  to  show  themselves  at  court,  where  I  was  of  course 
introduced.  Strangers  were  pouring  in  from  every  side ; 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  325 

high  company  was  in  every  house ;  even  to  us  some  cavaliers 
were  recommended,  others  introduced ;  and,  at  my  uncle's, 
men  of  every  nation  might  be  met  with. 

My  honest  mentor  still  continued,  in  a  modest  and  yet 
striking  way,  to  warn  me,  and  I  in  secret  to  take  it  ill  of 
him.  With  regard  to  his  assertion,  that  women  under  every 
circumstance  were  weak,  I  did  not  feel  at  all  convinced ;  and 
here,  perhaps,  I  was  in  the  right,  and  my  mentor  in  the 
wrong  :  but  he  spoke  so  earnestly  that  once  I  grew  afraid  he 
might  be  right,  and  said  to  him,  with  much  vivacity,  "  Since 
the  danger  is  so  great,  and  the  human  heart  so  weak,  I  will 
pray  to  God  that  he  may  keep  me." 

This  simple  answer  seemed  to  please  him,  for  he  praised 
my  purpose ;  but,  on  my  side,  it  was  any  thing  but  seriously 
meant.  It  was,  in  truth,  but  an  empty  word  ;  for  my  feel- 
ings towards  the  Invisible  were  almost  totally  extinguished. 
The  hurry  and  the  crowd  I  lived  in  dissipated  my  attention, 
and  carried  me  along  as  in  a  rapid  stream.  These  were  the 
emptiest  years  of  my  life.  All  day  long  to  speak  of  noth- 
ing, to  have  no  solid  thought,  never  to  do  any  thing  but 
revel,  —  such  was  my  employment.  On  my  beloved  books  I 
never  once  bestowed  a  thought.  The  people  I  lived  among 
had  not  the  slightest  tinge  of  literature  or  science  :  they  were 
German  courtiers,  a  class  of  men  at  that  time  altogether  des- 
titute of  culture. 

Such  society,  it  may  be  thought,  must  naturally  have  led 
me  to  the  brink  of  ruin.  I  lived  away  in  mere  corporeal 
cheerfulness :  I  never  took  myself  to  task,  I  never  prayed,  I 
never  thought  about  myself  or  God.  Yet  I  look  upon  it  as 
a  providential  guidance,  that  none  of  these  many  handsome, 
rich,  and  well-dressed  men  could  take  my  fancy.  They  were 
rakes,  and  did  not  conceal  it ;  this  scared  me  back :  they 
adorned  their  speech  with  double  meanings ;  this  offended 
me,  made  me  act  with  coldness  towards  them.  Many  times 
their  improprieties  exceeded  belief,  and  I  did  not  restrain 
myself  from  being  rude. 

Besides,  my  ancient  counsellor  had  once  in  confidence  con- 
trived to  tell  me,  that,  with  the  greater  part  of  these  lewd 
fellows,  health,  as  well  as  virtue,  was  in  danger.  I  now 
shuddered  at  the  sight  of  them  :  I  was  afraid  if  one  of  them 
in  any  way  approached  too  near  me.  I  would  not  touch 
their  cups  or  glasses,  —  even  the  chairs  they  had  been  sitting 
on.  Thus,  morally  and  physically,  I  remained  apart  from 
them :  all  the  compliments  they  paid  me  I  haughtily  ac- 
.  cepted,  as  inceuse  that  was  due. 


326  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Among  the  strangers  then  resident  among  us  was  one 
young  man  peculiarly  distinguished,  whom  we  used  in  sport 
to  call  Narciss.  He  had  gained  a  reputation  in  the  diplo- 
matic line ;  and,  among  the  various  changes  now  occurring 
at  court,  he  was  in  hopes  of  meeting  with  some  advantageous 
place.  He  soon  became  acquainted  with  my  father :  his  ac- 
quirements and  manners  opened  for  him  the  way  to  a  select 
society  of  most  accomplished  men.  My  father  often  spoke 
in  praise  of  him  :  his  figure,  which  was  very  handsome,  would 
have  made  a  still  better  impression,  had  it  not  been  for 
something  of  self-complacency  which  breathed  from  the 
whole  carriage  of  the  man.  I  had  seen  him,  I  thought  well 
of  him  ;  but  we  had  never  spoken. 

At  a  great  ball,  where  we  chanced  to  be  in  company,  I 
danced  a  minuet  with  him  ;  but  this,  too,  passed  without  re- 
sults. The  more  violent  dances,  in  compliance  with  my 
father,  who  felt  anxious  about  my  health,  I  was  accustomed 
to  avoid  :•  in  the  present  case,  when  these  came  on,  I  retired 
to  an  adjoining  room,  and  began  to  talk  with  certain  of  my 
friends,  elderly  ladies,  who  had  set  themselves  to  cards. 

Narciss,  who  had  jigged  it  for  a  while,  at  last  came  into 
the  room  where  I  was  ;  and  having  got  the  better  of  a  bleed- 
ing at  the  nose,  which  had  overtaken  him  in  dancing,  he  be- 
gan speaking  with  me  about  a  multitude  of  things.  In  half 
an  hour  the  talk  had  grown  so  interesting,  that  neither  of  us 
could  think  of  dancing  any  more.  We  were  rallied  by  our 
friends,  but  we  did  not  let  their  bantering  disturb  us.  Next 
evening  we  recommenced  our  conversation,  and  were  very 
careful  not  to  hurt  our  health. 

The  acquaintance  then  was  made.  Narciss  was  often  with 
my  sisters  and  myself ;  and  I  now  once  more  began  to  reckon 
over  and  consider  what  I  knew,  what  I  thought  of,  what  I 
had  felt,  and  what  I  could  express  myself  about  in  conversa- 
tion. My  new  friend  had  mingled  in  the  best  society ;  be- 
sides the  department  of  history  and  politics,  with  every  part 
of  which  he  was  familiar,  he  had  gained  extensive  literary 
knowledge  ;  there  was  nothing  new  that  issued  from  the  press, 
especially  in  France,  that  he  was  unacquainted  with.  He 
brought  or  sent  me  many  a  pleasant  book,  but  this  we  had  to 
keep  as  secret  as  forbidden  love.  Learned  women  had  been 
made  ridiculous,  nor  were  well-informed  women  tolerated,  — 
apparently  because  it  would  have  been  uncivil  to  put  so 
many  ill-informed  men  to  shame.  Even  my  father,  much 
as  he  delighted  in  this  new  opportunity  of  cultivating  my 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  327 

mind,  expressly  stipulated  that  our  literary  commerce  should 
remain  secret. 

Thus  our  intercourse  continued  for  almost  year  and  day  ; 
and  still  I  could  not  say,  that,  in  any  wise,  Narciss  had  ever 
shown  me  aught  of  love  or  tenderness.  He  was  always  com- 
plaisant and  kind,  but  manifested  nothing  like  attachment : 
on  the  contrary,  he  even  seemed  to  be  in  some  degree  affected 
by  the  charms  of  my  youngest  sister,  who  was  then  extremely 
beautiful.  In  sport,  he  gave  her  many  little  friendly  names 
out  of  foreign  tongues ;  for  he  could  speak  two  or  three  of 
these  extremely  well,  and  loved  to  mix  their  idiomatic  phrases 
with  his  German.  Such  compliments  she  did  not  answer 
very  liberally ;  she  was  entangled  in  a  different  noose :  and 
being  very  sharp,  while  he  was  very  sensitive,  the  two  were 
often  quarrelling  about  trifles.  With  my  mother  and  my 
aunt  he  kept  on  very  pleasant  terms  ;  and  thus,  by  gradual 
advances,  he  was  grown  to  be  a  member  of  the  family. 

Who  knows  how  long  we  might  have  lived  in  this  way,  had 
not  a  curious  accident  altered  our  relations  all  at  once  ?  My 
sisters  and  I  were  invited  to  a  certain  house,  to  which  we  did 
not  like  to  go.  The  company  was  too  mixed  ;  and  persons 
of  the  stupidest,  if  not  the  rudest,  stamp  were  often  to  be 
met  there.  Narciss,  on  this  occasion,  was  invited  also  ;  and 
on  his  account  I  felt  inclined  to  go,  for  I  was  sure  of  finding 
one,  at  least,  whom  I  could  converse  with  as  I  desired.  Even 
at  table  we  had  many  things  to  suffer,  for  several  of  the 
gentlemen  had  drunk  too  much  :  then,  in  the  drawing-room, 
they  insisted  on  a  game  at  forfeits.  It  went  on  with  great 
vivacity  and  tumult.  Narciss  had  lost  a  forfeit :  they  ordered 
him,  by  way  of  penalty,  to  whisper  something  pleasant  in  the 
ear  of  every  member  of  the  company.  It  seems  he  staid 
too  long  beside  my  next  neighbor,  the  lady  of  a  captain.  The 
latter  on  a  sudden  struck  him  such  a  box  with  his  fist,  that 
the  powder  flew  about  me,  into  my  eyes.  When  I  had  got 
my  eyes  cleared,  and  in  some  degree  recovered  from  my 
terror,  I  saw  that  both  gentlemen  had  drawn  their  swords. 
Narciss  was  bleeding ;  and  the  other,  mad  with  wine  and 
rage  and  jealousy,  could  scarcely  be  held  back  by  all  the 
company.  I  seized  Narciss,  led  him  by  the  arm  up-stairs ; 
and,  as  I  did  not  think  my  friend  safe  even  here  from  his 
frantic  enemy,  I  shut  the  door  and  bolted  it. 

Neither  of  us  considered  the  wound  serious,  for  a  slight 
cut  across  the  hand  was  all  we  saw.  Soon,  however,  I  dis- 
covered that  there  was  a  stream  of  blood  running  down  his 


328  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

back,  that  there  was  a  deep  wound  on  the  head.  I  now  be- 
gan to  be  afraid.  I  hastened  to  the  lobb}*,  to  get  help :  but 
I  could  see  no  person  ;  every  one  had  staid  below  to  calm 
the  raving  captain.  At  last  a  daughter  of  the  family  came 
skipping  up  :  her  mirth  annoyed  me  ;  she  was  like  to  die  with 
laughing  at  the  bedlam  spectacle.  I  conjured  her,  for  the 
sake  of  Heaven,  to  get  a  surgeon  ;  and  she,  in  her  wild  way, 
sprang  down-stairs  to  fetch  me  one  herself. 

Returning  to  my  wounded  friend,  I  bound  my  handkerchief 
about  his  hand,  and  a  neckerchief,  that  was  hanging  on  the 
door,  about  his  head.  He  was  still  bleeding  copiously :  he 
now  grew  pale,  and  seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  faint. 
There  was  none  at  hand  to  aid  me  :  I  ver}-  freely  put  my  arm 
round  him,  patted  his  cheek,  and  tried  to  cheer  him  by  little 
flatteries.  It  seemed  to  act  on  him  like  a  spiritual  remedy  : 
he  kept  his  senses,  but  sat  as  pale  as  death. 

At  last  the  active  housewife  arrived  :  it  is  easy  to  conceive 
her  terror  when  she  saw  my  friend  in  this  predicament,  lying- 
in  my  arms,  and  both  of  us  bestreamed  with  blood.  No  on'j 
had  supposed  he  was  wounded :  all  imagined  I  had  carried 
him  away  in  safety. 

Now  smelling-bottles,  wine,  and  every  thing  that  co'ild 
support  and  stimulate,  were  copiously  produced.  The  f  ur- 
geon  also  came,  and  I  might  easily  have  been  dispensed  with. 
Narciss,  however,  held  me  firmly  by  the  hand  :  I  would  have 
staid  without  holding.  During  the  dressing  of  his  wounds, 
I  continued  wetting  his  lips  with  wine  :  I  minded  not,  though 
all  the  company  were  now  about  us.  The  surgeon  having 
finished,  his  patient  took  a  mute  but  tender  leave  of  me,  and 
was  conducted  home. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  now  led  me  to  her  bedroom  :  she 
had  to  strip  me  altogether ;  and  I  must  confess,  while  they 
washed  the  blood  from  me,  I  saw  with  pleasure,  for  the  first 
time,  in  a  mirror,  that  I  might  be  reckoned  beautiful  without 
help  of  dress.  No  portion  of  my  clothes  could  be  put  on 
again ;  and,  as  the  people  of  the  house  were  all  either  less  or 
larger  than  myself,  I  was  taken  home  in  a  strange  disguise. 
My  parents  were,  of  course,  astonished.  They  felt  exceed- 
ingly indignant  at  my  fright,  at  the  wounds  of  their  friend,  at 
the  captain's  madness,  at  the  whole  occurrence.  A  very  lit  ,le 
would  have  made  my  father  send  the  captain  a  challenge, 
that  he  might  avenge  his  friend  without  delay.  He  blamsd 
the  gentlemen  that  had  been  there,  because  they  had  uot 
punished  on  the  spot  such  a  murderous  attempt ;  for  it  was 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  329 

but  too  clear,  that  the  captain,  instantly  on  striking,  had 
drawn  his  sword,  and  wounded  the  other  from  behind.  The 
cut  across  the  hand  had  been  given  just  when  Narciss  him- 
self was  grasping  at  his  sword.  I  felt  unspeakably  affected, 
altered;  or  how  shall  I  express  it?  The  passion  which  was 
sleeping  at  the  deepest  bottom  of  my  heart  had  at  once  broken 
loose,  like  a  flame  getting  air.  And  if  joy  and  pleasure  are 
well  suited  for  the  first  producing  and  the  silent  nourishing 
of  love,  yet  this  passion,  bold  by  nature,  is  most  easily  im- 
pelled by  terror  to  decide  and  to  declare  itself.  My  mother 
gave  her  little  flurried  daughter  some  medicine,  and  made  her 
go  to  bed.  With  the  earliest  morrow  my  father  hastened  to 
Narciss,  whom  he  found  lying  very  sick  of  a  wound-fever. 

He  told  me  little  of  what  passed  between  them,  but  tried 
to  quiet  me  about  the  probable  results  of  this  event.  They 
were  now  considering  whether  an  apology  should  be  accepted, 
whether  the  affair  should  go  before  a  court  of  justice,  and 
many  other  points  of  that  description.  I  knew  my  father  too 
well  to  doubt  that  he  would  be  averse  to  see  the  matter  end 
without  a  duel :  but  I  held  my  peace  ;  for  I  had  learned  from 
him  before,  that  women  should  not  meddle  in  such  things. 
For  the  rest,  it  did  not  strike  me  as  if  any  thing  had  passed 
between  the  friends,  in  which  my  interests  were  specially 
concerned ;  but  my  father  soon  communicated  to  my  mother 
the  purport  of  their  further  conversation.  Narciss,  he  said, 
appeared  to  be  exceedingly  affected  at  the  help  afforded  by 
me  ;  had  embraced  him,  declared  himself  my  debtor  forever ; 
signified  that  he  desired  no  happiness  except  what  he  could 
share  with  me,  and  concluded  by  enti'eating  that  he  might 
presume  to  ask  my  hand.  All  this  mamma  repeated  to  me, 
but  subjoined  the  safe  reflection,  that,  "  as  for  what  was  said 
in  the  first  agitation  of  mind  in  such  a  case,  there  was  little 
trust  to  be  placed  in  it."  —  "  Of  course,  none,"  I  answered 
with  affected  coldness ;  though  all  the  while  I  was  feeling, 
Heaven  knows  what. 

Narciss  continued  sick  for  two  months  ;  owing  to  the  wound 
in  his  right  hand,  he  could  not  even  write.  Yet,  in  the  mean 
time,  he  showed  me  his  regard  by  the  most  obliging  courtesies. 
All  these  unusual  attentions  I  combined  with  what  my  mother 
had  disclosed  to  me,  and  constantly  my  head  was  full  of 
fancies.  The  whole  city  talked  of  the  occurrence.  With  me 
they  spoke  of  it  in  a  peculiar  tone :  they  drew  inferences, 
which,  greatly  as  I  struggled  to  avoid  them,  touched  me  very 
close.  What  had  formerly  been  habitude  and  trifling,  was 


330  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

now  grown  seriousness  and  inclination.  The  anxiety  in 
which  I  lived  was  the  more  violent,  the  more  carefully  I  stud- 
ied to  conceal  it  from  every  one.  The  idea  of  losing;  him 
frightened  me :  the  possibility  of  any  closer  union  made  me 
tremble.  For  a  half-prudent  girl,  there  is  really  something 
awful  in  the  thought  of  marriage. 

By  such  incessant  agitations  I  was  once  more  led  to  recol- 
lect myself.  The  gaudy  imagery  of  a  thoughtless  life,  which 
used  to  hover  day  and  night  before  my  eyes,  was  at  once 
blown  away.  My  soul  again  began  to  awaken,  but  the 
greatly  interrupted  intimacy  with  my  invisible  friend  was 
not  so  easy  to  renew.  We  still  continued  at  a  frigid  dis- 
tance :  it  was  again  something,  but  little  to  the  times  of  old. 

A  duel  had  been  fought,  and  the  captain  severely  wounded, 
before  I  ever  heard  of  it.  The  public  feeling  was,  in  all 
senses,  strong  on  the  side  of  my  lover,  who  at  length 
again  appeared  upon  the  scene.  But,  first  of  all,  he  came, 
with  his  head  tied  up  and  his  arm  in  a  sling,  to  visit  us. 
How  my  heart  beat  while  he  was  there !  The  whole  family 
was  present :  general  thanks  and  compliments  were  all  that 
passed  on  either  side.  Narciss,  however,  found  an  opportu- 
nity to  show  some  secret  tokens  of  his  love  to  me ;  by  which 
means  my  inquietude  was  but  increased.  After  his  recovery 
he  visited  us  throughout  the  winter  on  the  former  footing ; 
and  in  spite  of  all  the  soft,  private  marks  of  tenderness 
which  he  contrived  to  give  rne,  the  whole  affair  remained 
unsettled,  undiscussed. 

In  this  manner  was  I  kept  in  constant  practice.  I  could 
trust  my  thoughts  to  no  mortal,  and  from  God  I  was  too 
far  removed.  Him  I  had  quite  forgotten  those  four  wild 
years :  I  now  again  began  to  think  of  him  occasionally,  but 
our  acquaintance  had  grown  cool ;  they  were  visits  of  mere 
ceremony  these  ;  and  as,  moreover,  in  waiting  on  him,  I  used 
to  dress  in  fine  apparel,  to  set  before  him  self-complacently 
my  virtue,  honor,  and  superiorities  to  others,  he  did  not  seem 
to  notice  me,  or  know  me  in  that  finery. 

A  courtier  would  have  been  exceedingly  distressed,  if  the 
prince  who  held  his  fortune  in  his  hands  had  treated  him  in 
this  way  ;  but,  for  me,  I  did  not  sorrow  at  it.  I  had  what  I 
required,  —  health  and  conveniences  :  if  God  should  please 
to  think  of  me,  well ;  if  not,  I  reckoned  I  had  done  my  duty. 

This,  in  truth,  I  did  not  think  at  that  period ;  yet  it  was 
the  true  figure  of  my  soul.  But,  to  change  and  purify  my 
feelings,  preparations  were  already  made. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  331 

The  spring  came  ou :  Narciss  once  visited  me  unan- 
nounced, and  at  a  time  when  I  happened  to  be  quite  alone. 
He  now  appeared  in  the  character  of  lover,  and  asked  me  if 
I  could  bestow  ou  him  my  heart,  and,  so  soon  as  he  should 
obtain  some  lucrative  and  honorable  place,  my  hand  along 
with  it. 

He  had  been  received  into  our  service ;  but  at  first  they 
kept  him  back,  and  would  not  rapidly  promote  him,  because 
they  dreaded  his  ambition.  Having  some  little  fortune  of 
his  own,  he  was  left  with  a  slender  salary. 

Notwithstanding  my  regard  for  him,  I  knew  that  he  was 
not  a  man  to  treat  with  altogether  frankly.  I  drew  up, 
therefore,  and  referred  him  to  my  father.  About  my  father 
he  did  not  seem  to  doubt,  but  wished  first  to  be  at  one  with 
me,  now  and  here.  I  at  last  said,  Yes ;  but  stipulated,  as  an 
indispensable  condition,  that  my  parents  should  concur.  He 
then  spoke  formally  with  both  of  them ;  they  signified  their 
satisfaction :  mutual  promises  were  given,  on  the  faith  of 
his  advancement,  which  it  was  expected  would  be  speedy. 
Sisters  and  aunts  were  informed  of  this  arrangement,  and 
the  strictest  secrecy  enjoined  on  them. 

Thus  had  my  lover  become  my  bridegroom,  and  great 
was  the  difference  between  the  two.  If  one  could  change 
the  lovers  of  all  honorable  maidens  into  bridegrooms,  it 
would  be  a  kindness  to  our  sex,  even  though  marriage 
should  not  follow  the  connection.  The  love  between  two 
persons  does  not  lessen  by  the  change,  but  it  becomes  more 
reasonable.  Innumerable  little  follies,  all  coquetries  and 
caprices,  disappear.  If  the  bridegroom  tells  us  that  we 
please  him  better  in  a  morning-cap  than  in  the  finest  head- 
dress, no  discreet  young  woman  will  disturb  herself  about 
her  hair-dressing ;  and  nothing  is  more  natural  than  that  he, 
too,  should  think  solidly,  and  rather  wish  to  form  a  house- 
wife for  himself  than  a  gaudy  doll  for  others.  And  thus  it 
is  in  ever}'  province  of  the  business. 

Should  a  young  woman  of  this  kind  be  fortunate  enough 
to  have  a  bridegroom  who  possesses  understanding  and  ac- 
quirements, she  learns  from  him  more  than  universities  and 
foreign  lands  can  teach.  She  not  only  willingly  receives  in- 
struction when  he  offers  it,  but  she  endeavors  to  elicit  more 
and  more  from  him.  Love  makes  much  that  was  impossible 
possible.  By  degrees,  too,  that  subjection,  so  necessary  and 
so  graceful  for  the  female  sex,  begins  :  the  bridegroom  does 
not  govern  like  the  husband  ;  he  only  asks :  but  his  mistress 


332  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

seeks  to  discover  what  he  wants,  and  to  offer  it  before  he 
asks  it. 

So  did  experience  teach  me  what  I  would  not  for  much 
have  missed.  I  was  happy,  truly  happy  as  woman  could 
be  in  the  world,  — that  is  to  say,  for  a  while. 

Amid  these  quiet  joys,  a  summer  passed  away.  Narciss 
gave  not  the  slightest  reason  to  complain  of  him :  he  daily 
became  more  dear  to  me ;  my  whole  soul  was  his.  This  he 
well  knew,  and  knew  also  how  to  prize  it.  Meanwhile,  from 
seeming  trifles,  something  rose,  which  by  and  by  grew  hurt- 
ful to  our  union. 

Narciss  behaved  to  me  as  to  a  bride,  and  never  dared  to 
ask  of  me  such  favors  as  were  yet  forbidden  us.  But,  about 
the  boundaries  of  virtue  and  decorum,  we  were  of  very  dif- 
ferent opinions.  I  meant  to  walk  securely,  and  so  never 
granted  him  the  smallest  freedom  which  the  whole  world 
might  not  have  witnessed.  He,  used  to  dainties,  thought 
this  diet  very  strict.  On  this  point  there  was  continual  vari- 
ance :  he  praised  my  modesty,  and  sought  to  undermine  my 
resolution. 

The  serious  of  my  old  French  teacher  now  occurred  to 
me,  as  well  as  the  defence  which  I  had  once  suggested  in 
regard  to  it. 

With  God  I  had  again  become  a  little  more  acquainted. 
He  had  given  me  a  bridegroom  whom  I  loved,  and  for  this 
I  felt  some  thankfulness.  Earthly  love  itself  concentrated 
my  soul,  and  put  its  powers  in  motion  ;  nor  did  it  contradict 
my  intercourse  with  God.  I  naturally  complained  to  him 
of  what  alarmed  me,  but  I  did  not  perceive  that  I  im-self 
was  wishing  and  desiring  it.  In  my  own  eyes  I  was  strong : 
I  did  not  pray,  "Lead  us  not  into  temptation!"  My 
thoughts  were  far  beyond  temptation.  In  this  flimsy  tinsel- 
work  of  virtue  I  came  to  God.  He  did  not  drive  me  back. 
On  the  smallest  movement  towards  him,  he  left  a  soft  im- 
pression in  my  soul;  and  this  impression  caused  me  always 
to  return. 

Except  Narciss,  the  world  was  altogether  dead  to  me : 
excepting  him,  there  was  nothing  in  it  that  had  any  charm. 
Even  my  love  for  dress  was  but  the  wish  to  please  him  :  if  I 
knew  that  he  was  not  to  see  me,  I  could  spend  no  care  upon 
it.  I  liked  to  dance  ;  but,  if  he  was  not  beside  me,  it  seemed 
as  if  I  could  not  bear  the  motion.  At  a  brilliant  festival,  if 
he  was  not  invited,  I  could  neither  take  the  trouble  of  pro- 
viding new  things,  nor  of  putting  on  the  old  according  to 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  333 

the  mode.  To  me  they  were  alike  agreeable,  or  rather,  I 
might  say,  alike  burdensome.  I  used  to  reckon  such  an 
evening  very  fairly  spent  when  I  could  join  myself  to  any 
ancient  card-party,  though  formerly  I  had  not  the  smallest 
taste  for  such  things  ;  and,  if  some  old  acquaintance  came 
and  rallied  me  about  it,  I  would  smile,  perhaps  for  the  first 
time  all  that  night.  So,  likewise,  it  was  with  promenades, 
and  every  social  entertainment  that  can  be  imagined :  — 

"Him  had  I  chosen  from  all  others; 
His  would  I  be,  and  not  another's: 
To  me  his  love  was  all  in  all." 

Thus  was  I  often  solitary  in  the  midst  of  company,  and 
real 'solitude  was  generally  acceptable  to  me.  But  my  busy 
soul  could  neither  sleep  nor  dream :  I  felt  and  thought,  and 
acquired  by  degrees  some  faculty  to  speak  about  my  feel- 
ings and  my  thoughts  with  God.  Then  were  feelings  of 
another  sort  unfolded,  but  these  did  not  contradict  the  for- 
mer feelings :  my  affection  to  Narciss  accorded  with  the  uni- 
versal scheme  of  nature ;  it  nowhere  hindered  the  perform- 
ance of  a  duty.  They  did  not  contradict  each  other,  yet 
they  were  immensely  different.  Narciss  was  the  only  living 
form  which  hovered  in  my  mind,  and  to  which  my  love  was 
all  directed  ;  but  the  other  feeling  was  not  directed  towards 
any  form,  and  yet  it  was  unspeakably  agreeable.  I  no 
longer  have  it :  I  no  longer  can  impart  it. 

My  lover,  whom  I  used  to  trust  with  all  my  secrets,  did  not 
know  of  this.  I  soon  discovered  that  he  thought  far  other- 
wise :  he  often  gave  me  writings  which  opposed,  with  light 
and  heavy  weapons,  all  that  can  be  called  connection  with 
the  Invisible.  I  used  to  read  the  books  because  they  came 
from  him ;  but,  at  the  end,  I  knew  no  word  of  all  that  had 
been  argued  in  them. 

Nor,  in  regard  to  sciences  and  knowledge,  was  there  want 
of  contradiction  in  our  conduct.  He  did  as  all  men  do,  —  he 
mocked  at  learned  women  ;  and  yet  he  kept  continually  in- 
structing me.  He  used  to  speak  with  me  on  all  subjects, 
law  excepted  ;  and,  while  constantly  procuring  books  of  every 
kind  for  me,  he  frequently  repeated  the  uncertain  precept, 
44  That  a  lady  ought  to  keep  the  knowledge  she  might  have 
more  secret  than  the  Calvinist  his  creed  in  Catholic  coun- 
tries/' And  while  I,  by  natural  consequence,  endeavored 
not  to  show  myself  more  wise  or  learned  than  formerly  be- 
fore the  world,  Narciss  himself  was  commonly  the  first  who 


334  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

yielded  to  the  vanity  of  speaking  about  me  and  my  supe- 
riorities. 

A  nobleman  of  high  repute,  and  at  that  time  valued  for 
his  influence,  his  talents,  and  accomplishments,  was  living 
at  our  court  with  great  applause.  He  bestowed  especial 
notice  on  Narciss,  whom  he  kept  continually  about  him. 
They  once  had  an  argument  about  the  virtue  of  women. 
Narciss  repeated  to  me  what  had  passed  between  them :  I 
was  not  wanting  with  my  observations,  and  my  friend  re- 
quired of  me  a  written  essay  on  the  subject.  I  could  write 
French  fluently  enough :  I  had  laid  a  good  foundation  with 
my  teacher.  My  correspondence  with  Narciss  was  likewise 
carried  on  in  French :  except  in  French  books,  there  was 
then  no  elegant  instruction  to  be  had.  My  essay  pleased  the 
count :  I  was  obliged  to  let  him  have  some  little  songs, 
which  I  had  lately  been  composing.  In  short,  Narciss  ap- 
peared to  revel  without  stint  in  the  renown  of  his  beloved : 
and  the  story,  to  his  great  contentment,  ended  with  a  French 
epistle  in  heroic  verse,  which  the  count  transmitted  to  him 
on  departing ;  in  which  their  argument  was  mentioned,  and 
my  friend  reminded  of  his  happiness  in  being  destined,  after 
all  his  doubts  and  errors,  to  learn  most  certainly  what  virtue 
was,  in  the  arms  of  a  virtuous  and  charming  wife. 

He  showed  this  poem  first  of  all  to  me,  and  then  to  almost 
every  one ;  each  thinking  of  the  matter  what  he  pleased. 
Thus  did  he  act  in  several  cases :  every  stranger,  whom  he 
valued,  must  be  made  acquainted  in  our  house. 

A  noble  family  was  staying  for  a  season  in  the  place,  to 
profit  by  the  skill  of  our  physician.  In  this  house,  too, 
Narciss  was  looked  on  as  a  son ;  he  introduced  me  there ; 
we  found  among  these  worthy  persons  the  most  pleasant  en- 
tertainment for  mind  and  heart.  Even  the  common  pastimes 
of  society  appeared  less  empty  here  than  elsewhere.  All 
knew  how  matters  stood  with  us  :  they  treated  us  as  circum- 
stances would  allow,  and  left  the  main  relation  unalluded  to. 
I  mention  this  one  family ;  because,  in  the  after-period  of 
my  life,  it  had  a  powerful  influence  upon  me. 

Almost  a  year  of  our  connection  had  elapsed  ;  and,  along 
with  it,  our  spring  was  over.  The  summer  came,  and  all 
grew  drier  and  more  earnest. 

By  several  unexpected  deaths,  some  offices  fell  vacant, 
which  Narciss  might  make  pretensions  to.  The  instant  was 
at  hand  when  my  whole  destiny  must  be  decided ;  and  while 
Narciss,  and  all  our  friends,  were  making  every  effort  to 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  835 

efface  some  impressions  which  obstructed  him  at  court,  and 
to  obtain  for  him  the  wished- for  situation,  I  turned  with  my 
request  to  my  Invisible  Friend.  I  was  received  so  kindly, 
that  I  gladly  came  again.  I  confessed,  without  disguise, 
my  wish  that  Narciss  might  obtain  the  place  ;  but  my  prayer 
was  not  importunate,  and  I  did  not  require  that  it  should 
happen  for  the  sake  of  my  petition. 

The  place  was  obtained  by  a  far  inferior  competitor.  I 
was  dreadfully  troubled  at  this  news  :  I  hastened  to  my  room, 
the  door  of  which  I  locked  behind  me.  The  first  fit  of  grief 
went  off  in  a  shower  of  tears :  the  next  thought  was,  "  Yet 
it  was  not  by  chance  that  it  happened ; ' '  and  instantby  I 
formed  the  resolution  to  be  well  content  with  it,  seeing  even 
this  apparent  evil  would  be  for  my  true  advantage.  The 
softest  emotions  then  pressed  in  upon  me,  and  divided  all 
the  clouds  of  sorrow.  I  felt,  that,  with  help  like  this,  there 
was  nothing  one  might  not  endure.  At  dinner  I  appeared 
quite  cheerful,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  all  the  house. 

Narciss  had  less  internal  force  than  I,  and  I  was  called 
upon  to  comfort  him.  In  his  family,  too,  he  had  many 
crosses  to  encounter,  some  of  which  afflicted  him  consider- 
ably ;  and,  such  true  confidence  subsisting  between  us,  he 
intrusted  me  with  all.  His  negotiations  for  entering  on 
foreign  service  were  not  more  fortunate  ;  all  this  I  felt  deeply 
on  his  account  and  mine ;  all  this,  too,  I  ultimately  carried 
to  the  place  where  my  petitions  had  already  been  so  well 
received. 

The  softer  these  experiences  were,  the  oftener  did  I  en- 
deavor to  renew  them  :  I  hoped  continually  to  meet  with  com- 
fort where  I  had  so  often  met  with  it.  Yet  I  did  not  always 
meet  with  it :  I  was  as  one  that  goes  to  warm  him  in  the 
sunshine,  while  there  is  something  standing  in  the  way  that 
makes  a  shadow.  "What  is  this?"  I  asked  myself.  I 
traced  the  matter  zealously,  and  soon  perceived  that  it  all 
depended  on  the  situation  of  my  soul :  if  this  was  not  turned 
in  the  straightest  direction  towards  God,  I  still  continued 
cold ;  I  did  not  feel  his  counter-influence  ;  I  could  obtain  no 
answer.  The  second  question  was,  "What  hinders  this 
direction  ?  ' '  Here  I  was  in  a  wide  field  :  I  perplexed  myself 
in  an  inquiry  which  lasted  nearly  all  the  second  year  of  my 
attachment  to  Narciss.  I  might  have  ended  the  investiga- 
tion sooner,  for  it  was  not  long  till  I  had  got  upon  the 
proper  trace ;  but  I  would  not  confess  it,  and  I  sought  a 
thousand  outlets. 


336  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

I  very  soon  discovered  that  the  straight  direction  of  my 
soul  was  marred  by  foolish  dissipations,  and  employment 
with  unworthy  things.  The  how  and  the  where  were  clear 
enough  to  me.  Yet  by  what  means  could  I  help  myself,  or 
extricate  my  mind  from  the  calls  of  a  world  where  every 
thing  was  either  cold  indifference  or  hot  insanity?  Gladly 
would  I  have  left  things  standing  as  they  were,  and  lived 
from  day  to  day,  floating  down  with  the  stream,  like  other 
people  whom  I  saw  quite  happy  ;  but  I  durst  not :  my  inmost 
feelings  contradicted  me  too  often.  Yet  if  I  determined  to 
renounce  society,  and  alter  my  relations  to  others,  it  was 
not  in  my  power.  I  was  hemmed  in  as  by  a  ring  drawn 
round  me  ;  certain  connections  I  could  not  dissolve  ;  and,  in 
the  matter  which  lay  nearest  to  my  heart,  fatalities  accumu- 
lated and  oppressed  me  more  and  more.  I  often  went  to 
bed  with  tears,  and,  after  a  sleepless  night,  arose  again  with 
tears  :  I  required  some  strong  support ;  and  God  would  not 
vouchsafe  it  me  while  I  was  running  with  the  cap  and  bells. 

I  proceeded  now  to  estimate  my  doings,  all  and  each : 
dancing  and  play  were  first  put  upon  their  trial.  Never  was 
there  any  thing  spoken,  thought,  or  written,  for  or  against 
these  practices,  which  I  did  not  examine,  talk  of,  read, 
weigh,  reject,  aggravate,  and  plague  myself  about.  If  I 
gave  up  these  habits,  I  was  certain  that  Narciss  would  be 
offended  ;  for  he  dreaded  exceedingly  the  ridicule  which  any 
look  of  straitlaced  conscientiousness  gives  one  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world.  And  doing  what  I  now  looked  upon  as  folly, 
noxious  folly,  out  of  no  taste  of  ray  own,  but  merely  to 
gratify  him,  it  all  grew  wofully  irksome  to  me. 

Without  disagreeable  prolixities  and  repetitions,  it  is  not 
iu  my  power  to  represent  what  pains  I  took,  in  trying  so  to 
counteract  those  occupations  which  distracted  my  attention 
and  disturbed  my  peace  of  mind,  that  my  heart,  in  spite  of 
them,  might  still  be  open  to  the  influences  of  the  Invisible 
Being.  But  at  last,  with  pain,  I  was  compelled  to  admit, 
that  in  this  way  the  quarrel  could  not  be  composed.  For  no 
sooner  had  I  clothed  myself  in  the  garment  of  folly,  than  it 
came  to  be  something  more  than  a  mask,  than  the  foolish- 
ness pierced  and  penetrated  me  through  and  through. 

May  I  here  overstep  the  province  of  a  mere  historical 
detail,  and  offer  one  or  two  remarks  on  what  was  then  taking 
place  within  me  ?  What  could  it  be  which  so  changed  my 
tastes  and  feelings,  that,  in  my  twenty-second  year,  nay, 
earlier,  I  lost  all  relish  for  the  recreations  with  which  people 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  337 

of  that  age  are  harmlessly  delighted  ?  Why  were  they  not 
harmless  for  me?  I  may  answer,  "  Just  because  they  were 
not  harmless ;  because  I  was  not,  like  others  of  my  years, 
unacquainted  with  my  soul.  No !  I  knew,  from  experiences 
which  had  reached  me  unsought,  that  there  are  loftier  emo- 
tions, which  afford  us  a  contentment  such  as  it  is  vain  to 
seek  in  the  amusements  of  the  world ;  and  that,  in  these 
higher  joys,  there  is  also  kept  a  secret  treasure  for  strength- 
ening the  spirit  in  misfortune. 

But  the  pleasures  of  society,  the  dissipations  of  youth, 
must  needs  have  had  a  powerful  charm  for  me  ;  since  it  was 
not  in  my  power  to  engage  in  them  without  participation,  to 
act  among  them  as  if  they  were  not  there.  How  many 
things  could  I  now  do,  if  I  liked,  with  entire  coldness,  which 
then  dazzled  and  confounded  me,  nay,  threatened  to  obtain 
the  mastery  over  me  !  Here  there  could  no  medium  be  ob- 
served: either  those  delicious  amusements,  or. my  nourishing 
and  quickening  internal  emotions,  must  be  given  up. 

But,  in  my  soul,  the  strife  had,  without  my  own  conscious- 
ness, already  been  decided.  Even  if  there  still  was  any 
thing  within  me  that  longed  for  earthly  pleasures,  I  had  now 
become  unfitted  for  enjoying  them.  Much  as  a  man  might 
hanker  after  wine,  all  desire  of  drinking  would  forsake  him, 
if  he  should  be  placed  among  full  barrels  in  a  cellar,  where 
the  foul  air  was  like  to  suffocate  him.  Free  air  is  more  than 
wine ;  this  I  felt  but  too  keenly :  and,  from  the  first,  it  would 
have  cost  me  little  studying  to  prefer  the  good  to  the  delight- 
ful, if  the  fear  of  losing  the  affection  of  Narciss  had  not 
restrained  me.  But  at  last,  when  after  many  thousand  strug- 
gles, and  thoughts  continually  renewed,  1  began  to  cast  a 
stead}'  eye  upon  the  bond  which  held  me  to  him,  I  discovered 
that  it  was  but  weak,  that  it  might  be  torn  asunder.  I  at 
once  perceived  it  to  be  only  as  a  glass  bell,  which  shut  me 
up  in  the  exhausted,  airless  space :  one  bold  stroke  to  break 
the  bell  in  pieces,  and  thou  art  delivered  ! 

No  sooner  thought  than  tried.  I  drew  off  the  mask,  and 
on  all  occasions  acted  as  my  heart  directed.  Narciss  I  still 
cordially  loved :  but  the  thermometer,  which  formerly  had 
stood  in  hot  water,  was  now  hanging  in  the  natural  air ;  it 
could  rise  no  higher  than  the  warmth  of  the  atmosphere 
directed. 

Unhappily  it  cooled  very  much.  Narciss  drew  back,  and 
began  to  assume  a  distant  air:  this  was  at  his  option,  but 
my  thermometer  descended  as  he  drew  back.  Our  family  ob- 


338  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

served  this,  questioned  me,  and  seemed  to  be  surprised. 
1  explained  to  them,  with  stout  defiance,  that  heretofore  I 
had  made  abundant  sacrifices ;  that  I  was  ready,  still  far- 
ther and  to  the  end  of  my  life,  to  share  all  crosses  that 
befell  him  ;  but  that  I  required  full  freedom  in  my  conduct, 
that  my  doings  and  avoidiugs  must  depend  upon  my  own 
conviction ;  that,  indeed,  I  would  never  bigotedly  cleave  to 
my  own  opinion,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  would  willingly  be 
reasoned  with ;  yet,  as  it  concerned  my  own  happiness,  the 
decision  must  proceed  from  myself,  and  be  liable  to  no  man- 
ner of  constraint.  The  greatest  plrysician  could  not  move 
me,  by  his  reasonings,  to  take  an  article  of  food,  which  per- 
haps was  altogether  wholesome  and  agreeable  to  many,  so 
soon  as  my  experience  had  shown,  that  on  all  occasions  it  was 
noxious  to  me ;  as  I  might  produce  coffee  for  an  instance : 
and  just  as  little,  nay,  still  less,  would  I  have  any  sort  of 
conduct  which  misled  me,  preached  up  and  demonstrated 
upon  me  as  morally  profitable. 

Having  so  long  prepared  myself  in  silence,  these  debates 
were  rather  pleasant  than  vexatious  to  me.  I  gave  vent  to 
my  soul :  I  felt  the  whole  worth  of  my  determination.  I 
yielded  not  a  hair's-breadth,  and  those  to  whom  I  owed  no 
filial  respect  were  sharply  handled  and  despatched.  In  the 
family  I  soon  prevailed.  My  mother  from  her  youth  had 
entertained  these  sentiments,  though  in  her  they  had  never 
reached  maturity ;  for  no  necessity  had  pressed  upon  her, 
and  exalted  her  courage  to  achieve  her  purpose.  She  re- 
joiced in  beholding  her  silent  wishes  fulfilled  through  me. 
My  younger  sisters  seemed  to  join  themselves  with  me :  the 
second  was  attentive  and  quiet.  Our  aunt  had  the  most  to 
object.  The  arguments  which  she  emploj'ed  appeared  to  her 
irrefragable ;  and  they  were  irrefragable,  being  altogether 
commonplace.  At  last  I  was  obliged  to  show  her,  that  she 
had  no  voice  in  the  affair  in  any  sense  ;  and,  after  this,  she 
seldom  signified  that  she  persisted  in  her  views.  She  was, 
indeed,  the  only  person  that  observed  this  transaction  close 
at  hand,  without  in  some  degree  experiencing  its  influence. 
I  do  not  calumniate  her,  when  I  say  that  she  had  no  charac- 
ter, and  the  most  limited  ideas. 

My  father  had  acted  altogether  in  his  own  way.  He  spoke 
not  much,  but  often,  with  me  on  the  matter :  his  arguments 
were  rational ;  and,  being  his  arguments,  they  could  not  be 
impugned.  It  was  only  the  deep  feeling  of  my  right  that 
gave  me  strength  to  dispute  against  him.  But  the  scenes 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  339 

soon  changed :  I  was  forced  to  make  appeal  to  his  heart. 
Straitened  by  his  understanding,  I  came  out  with  the  most 
pathetic  pleadings.  I  gave  free  course  to  my  tongue  and  to 
my  tears.  I  showed  him  how  much  I  loved  Narciss ;  how 
much  constraint  I  had  for  two  years  been  enduring;  how 
certain  I  was  of  being  in  the  right ;  that  I  was  ready  to  tes- 
tify that  certainty,  by  the  loss  of  my  beloved  bridegroom 
and  prospective  happiness,  —  nay,  if  it  were  necessary,  by 
the  loss  of  all  that  I  possessed  on  earth ;  that  I  would  rather 
leave  my  native  country,  my  parents,  and  my  friends,  and 
beg  my  bread  in  foreign  lands,  than  act  against  these  dic- 
tates of  my  conscience.  He  concealed  his  emotion  :  he  said 
nothing  on  the  subject  for  a  while,  and  at  last  he  openly  de- 
clared in  my  favor. 

During  all  this  time  Narciss  forbore  to  visit  us ;  and  my 
father  now  gave  up  the  weekly  club,  where  he  was  used  to 
meet  him.  The  business  made  a  noise  at  court,  and  in  the 
town.  People  talked  about  it,  as  is  common  in  such  cases, 
which  the  public  takes  a  vehement  interest  in,  because  its 
sentence  has  usurped  an  influence  on  the  resolutions  of  weak 
minds.  I  knew  enough  about  the  world  to  understand  that 
one's  conduct  is  often  censured  by  the  very  persons  who 
would  have  advised  it,  had  one  consulted  them ;  and  inde- 
pendently of  this,  with  my  internal  composure,  I  should  have 
looked  on  all  such  transitory  speculations  just  as  if  they  had 
not  been. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  hindered  not  myself  from  yielding  to 
my  inclination  for  Narciss.  To  me  he  had  become  invisible, 
and  to  him  my  feelings  had  not  altered.  I  loved  him  ten- 
derly ;  as  it  were  anew,  and  much  more  steadfastly  than  be- 
fore. If  he  chose  to  leave  my  conscience  undisturbed,  then 
I  was  his :  wanting  this  condition,  I  would  have  refused  a 
kingdom  with  him.  For  several  months  I  bore  these  feel- 
ings and  these  thoughts  about  with  me ;  and,  finding  at  last 
that  I  was  calm  and  strong  enough  to  go  peacefully  and 
firmly  to  work,  I  wrote  him  a  polite  but  not  a  tender  note, 
inquiring  why  he  never  came  to  see  me. 

As  I  knew  his  manner  of  avoiding  to  explain  himself  in 
little  matters,  but  of  silently  doing  what  seemed  good  to  him, 
I  purposely  urged  him  in  the  present  instance.  I  got  a  long, 
and,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  pitiful,  reply,  in  vague  style  and  un- 
meaning phrases,  stating,  that,  without  a  better  place,  he 
could  not  fix  himself,  and  offer  me  his  hand ;  that  I  best 
knew  how  hard  it  had  fared  with  him  hitherto ;  that  as  he 


340  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

was  afraid  lest  a  fruitless  intercourse,  so  long  continued, 
might  prove  hurtful  to  my  reputation,  I  would  give  him 
leave  to  continue  at  his  present  distance  ;  so  soon  as  it  was  in 
his  power  to  make  me  happy,  he  would  look  upon  the  word 
which  he  had  given  me  as  sacred. 

I  answered  him  on  the  spot,  that,  as  our  intercourse  was 
known  to  all  the  world,  it  might,  perhaps,  be  rather  late  to 
spare  my  reputation ;  for  which,  at  any  rate,  my  conscience 
and  my  innocence  were  the  surest  pledges ;  however,  that  I 
hereby  freely  gave  him  back  his  word,  and  hoped  the  change 
would  prove  a  happy  one  for  him.  The  same  hour  I  re- 
ceived a  short  reply,  which  was,  in  all  essential  particulars, 
entirely  synon}rmous  with  the  first.  He  adhered  to  his  for- 
mer statement,  that,  so  soon  as  he  obtained  a  situation,  he 
would  ask  me,  if  I  pleased,  to  share  his  fortune  with  him. 

This  I  interpreted  as  meaning  simply  nothing.  I  signified 
to  my  relations  and  acquaintances,  that  the  affair  was  alto- 
gether settled ;  and  it  was  so  in  fact.  Having,  nine  months 
afterwards,  obtained  the  much-desired  preferment,  he  offered 
me  his  hand,  but  under  the  condition,  that,  as  the  wife  of  a 
man  who  must  keep  house  like  other  people,  I  should  alter 
my  opinions.  I  returned  him  many  thanks,  and  hastened 
with  my  heart  and  mind  away  from  this  transaction,  as  one 
hastens  from  the  playhouse  when  the  curtain  falls.  And  as 
he,  a  short  time  afterwards,  had  found  a  rich  and  advanta- 
geous match,  a  thing  now  easy  for  him  ;  and  as  I  now  knew 
him  to  be  happy  in  the  way  he  liked,  —  my  own  tranquillity 
was  quite  complete. 

I  must  not  pass  in  silence  the  fact,  that  several  times  be- 
fore he  got  a  place,  and  after  it,  there  were  respectable  pro- 
posals made  to  me ;  which,  however,  I  declined  without  the 
smallest  hesitation,  much  as  my  father  and  my  mother  could 
have  wished  for  more  compliance  on  my  part. 

At  length,  after  a  stormy  March  and  April,  the  loveliest 
May  weather  seemed  to  be  allotted  me.  With  good  health, 
I  enjoyed  an  indescribable  composure  of  min^  :  look  around 
me  as  I  pleased,  my  loss  appeared  a  gain  to  me.  Young  and 
full  of  sensibility,  I  thought  the  universe  a  thousand  times 
more  beautiful  than  formerly,  when  I  required  to  have  society 
and  play,  that  in  the  fair  garden  tedium  might  not  overtake 
me.  And  now,  as  I  did  not  conceal  my  piety,  I  likewise 
took  heart  to  own  my  love  for  the  sciences  and  arts.  I  drew, 
painted,  read,  and  found  enough  of  people  to  support  me : 
instead  of  the  great  world,  which  I  had  left,  or,  rather,  which 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  341 

had  left  me,  a  smaller  one  formed  itself  about  me,  which  was 
infinitely  richer  and  more  entertaining.  I  had  a  turn  for 
social  life  ;  and  I  do  not  deny,  that,  on  giving  up  my  old  ac- 
quaintances, I  trembled  at  the  thought  of  solitude.  I  now 
found  myself  abundantly,  perhaps  excessively,  indemnified. 
My  acquaintances  erelong  were  very  numerous,  not  at  home 
only,  but  likewise  among  people  at  a  distance.  My  story 
had  been  noised  abroad,  and  many  persons  felt  a  curiosity 
to  see  the  woman  who  had  valued  God  above  her  bridegroom. 
There  was  a  certain  pious  tone  to  be  observed,  at  that  time, 
generally  over  Germany.  In  the  families  of  several  counts 
and  princes,  a  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  soul  had  been 
awakened.  Nor  were  there  wanting  noblemen  who  showed 
a  like  attention  ;  while,  in  the  inferior  classes,  sentiments  of 
this  kind  were  diffused  on  every  side. 

The  noble  family,  whom  I  mentioned  above,  now  drew  me 
nearer  to  them.  They  had,  in  the  mean  while,  gathered 
strength  ;  several  of  their  relations  having  settled  in  the  town. 
These  estimable  persons  courted  my  familiarity,  as  I  did 
theirs.  They  had  high  connections :  I  became  acquainted, 
in  their  house,  with  a  great  part  of  the  princes,  counts,  and 
lords  of  the  empire.  My  sentiments  were  not  concealed 
from  any  one :  they  might  be  honored  or  be  tolerated ;  I 
obtained  my  object,  —  none  attacked  me. 

There  was  yet  another  way  by  which  I  was  again  led  back 
into  the  world.  About  this  period  a  step-brother  of  my 
father,  who  till  now  had  never  visited  the  house  except  in 
passing,  staid  with  us  for  a  considerable  time.  He  had  left 
the  service  of  his  court,  where  he  enjoyed  great  influence 
and  honor,  simply  because  all  matters  were  not  managed 
quite  according  to  his  mind.  His  intellect  was  just,  his  char- 
acter was  rigid.  In  these  points  he  was  very  like  my  father : 
only  the  latter  had  withal  a  certain  touch  of  softness,  which 
enabled  him  with  greater  ease  to  yield  a  little  in  affairs,  and 
though  not  to  do,  yet  to  permit,  some  things  against  his  own 
conviction  ;  and  then  to  evaporate  his  anger  at  them,  either 
in  silence  by  himself,  or  in  confidence  amid  his  family.  My 
uncle  was  a  great  deal  younger,  and  his  independence  of 
spirit  had  been  favored  by  his  outward  circumstances.  His 
mother  had  been  very  rich,  and  he  still  had  large  possessions 
to  expect  from  her  near  and  distant  relatives  ;  so  he  needed 
no  foreign  increase :  whereas  my  father,  with  his  moderate 
fortune,  was  bound  to  his  place  by  the  consideration  of  his 
salary. 


342  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

My  uncle  had  become  still  more  unbending  from  domestic 
sufferings.  He  had  early  lost  an  amiable  wife  and  a  hopeful 
son  ;  and,  from  that  time,  he  appeared  to  wish  to  push  away 
from  him  every  thing  that  did  not  hang  upon  his  individual  will. 

In  our  family  it  was  whispered  now  and  then  with  some 
complacency,  that  probably  he  would  not  wed  again,  and  so 
we  children  might  anticipate  inheriting  his  fortune.  I  paid 
small  regard  to  this,  but  the  demeanor  of  the  rest  was  not  a 
little  modified  by  their  hopes.  In  his  own  imperturbable  firm- 
ness of  character,  my  uncle  had  grown  into  the  habit  of  never 
contradicting  any  one  in  conversation.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  listened  with  a  friendly  air  to  every  one's  opinion,  and 
would  himself  elucidate  and  strengthen  it  by  instances  and 
reasons  of  his  own.  All  who  did  not  know  him  fancied  that 
he  thought  as  they  did  ;  for  he  was  possessed  of  a  prepon- 
derating intellect,  and  could  transport  himself  into  the  mental 
state  of  any  man,  and  imitate  his  manner  of  conceiving. 
With  me  he  did  not  prosper  quite  so  well ;  for  here  the  ques- 
tion was  about  emotions,  of  which  he  had  not  any  glimpse  : 
and,  with  whatever  tolerance  and  sympathy  and  rationality 
he  spoke  about  my  sentiments,  it  was  palpable  to  me,  that  he 
had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  what  formed  the  ground  of 
all  my  conduct. 

With  all  his  secrecy,  we  by  and  by  found  out  the  aim  of 
his  unusual  stay  with  us.  He  had,  as  we  at  length  dis- 
covered, cast  his  eyes  upon  our  youngest  sister,  with  the  view 
of  giving  her  in  marriage,  <tnd  rendering  her  happy  as  he 
pleased  ;  and  certainly,  considering  her  personal  and  mental 
attractions,  particularly  when  a  handsome  fortune  was  laid 
into  the  scale  along  with  them,  she  might  pretend  to  the  first 
matches.  His  feelings  towards  me  he  likewise  showed  Us 
pantomimically,  by  procuring  me  a  post  of  canoness,  the 
income  of  which  I  very  soon  began  to  draw. 

My  sister  was  not  so  contented  with  his  care  as  I.  She 
now  disclosed  to  me  a  tender  secret,  which  hitherto  she  had 
very  wisely  kept  back  ;  fearing,  as  in  truth  it  happened,  that 
I  would  by  all  means  counsel  her  against  connection  with  a 
man  who  was  not  suited  to  her.  I  did  my  utmost,  and  suc- 
ceeded. The  purpose  of  my  uncle  was  too  serious  and  too 
distinct :  the  prospect  for  my  sister,  with  her  worldly  views, 
was  too  delightful  to  be  thwarted  by  a  passion  which  her  own 
understanding  disapproved  ;  she  mustered  force  to  give  it  up. 

On  her  ceasing  to  resist  the  gentle  guidance  of  my  uncle, 
the  foundation  of  his  plan  was  quickly  laid.  She  was  ap- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  343 

pointed  maid  of  honor  at  a  neighboring  court,  where  he 
could  commit  her  to  the  oversight  and  the  instructions  of  a 
lady,  his  friend,  who  presided  there  as  governess  with  great 
applause.  I  accompanied  her  to  the  place  of  her  new  abode. 
Both  of  us  had  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  reception  we 
met  with  ;  and  frequently  I  could  not  help,  in  secret,  smiling 
at  the  character,  which  now  as  canoness,  as  young  and  pious 
canoness,  I  was  enacting  in  the  world. 

In  earlier  times  a  situation  such  as  this  would  have  con- 
fused me  dreadfully,  perhaps  have  turned  my  head ;  but 
now,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  splendors  that  surrounded  me, 
I  felt  extremely  cool.  With  great  quietness  I  let  them 
frizzle  me,  and  deck  me  out  for  hours,  and  thought  no  more 
of  it  than  that  my  place  required  me  to  wear  that  gala  livery. 
In  the  thronged  saloons  I  spoke  with  all  and  each,  though 
no  shape  or  character  among  them  made  any  impression  on 
me.  On  returning  to  my  house,  nearly  all  the  feeling  I 
brought  back  with  me  was  that  of  tired  limbs.  Yet  my  un- 
derstanding drew  advantage  from  the  multitude  of  persons 
whom  I  saw :  and  I  became  acquainted  with  some  ladies, 
patterns  of  every  virtue,  of  a  noble  and  good  demeanor ; 
particularly  with  the  governess,  under  whom  my  sister  was 
to  have  the  happiness  of  being  formed. 

At  my  return,  however,  the  consequences  of  this  journey, 
in  regard  to  health,  were  found  to  be  less  favorable.  With 
the  greatest  temperance,  the  strictest  diet,  I  had  not  been, 
as  I  used  to  be,  completely  mistress  of  my  time  and  strength. 
Food,  motion,  rising,  and  going  to  sleep,  dressing  and  visiting, 
had  not  depended,  as  at  home,  on  my  own  conveniency  and 
will.  In  the  circle  of  social  life  you  cannot  stop  without  a 
breach  of  courtesy :  all  that  was  needful  I  had  willingly  per- 
formed ;  because  I  looked  upon  it  as  my  duty,  because  I 
knew  that  it  would  soon  be  over,  and  because  I  felt  myself 
completely  healthy.  Yet  this  unusual,  restless  life  must  have 
had  more  effect  upon  me  than  I  was  aware  of.  Scarcely  had 
I  reached  home,  and  cheered  my  parents  with  a  comfortable 
narrative,  when  I  was  attacked  by  a  hemorrhage,  which,  al- 
though it  did  not  prove  dangerous  or  lasting,  yet  left  a  weak- 
ness after  it,  perceptible  for  many  a  day. 

Here,  then,  I  had  another  lesson  to  repeat.  I  did  it  joy- 
fully. Nothing  bound  me  to  the  world,  and  I  was  convinced 
that  here  the  true  good  was  never  to  be  found  ;  so  I  waited 
in  the  cheerf ullest  and  meekest  state  :  and,  after  having  ab- 
dicated life,  I  was  retained  in  it. 


344  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

A  new  trial  was  awaiting  me :  my  mother  took  a  painful 
and  oppressive  ailment,  which  she  had  to  bear  five  years, 
before  she  paid  the  debt  of  nature.  All  this  time  we  were 
sharply  proved.  Often,  when  her  terror  grew  too  strong,  she 
would  have  us  all  summoned,  in  the  night,  to  her  bed,  that 
so  at  least  she  might  be  busied,  if  not  bettered,  by  our  pres- 
ence. The  load  grew  heavier,  nay,  scarcely  to  be  borne, 
when  my  father,  too,  became  unwell.  From  his  youth  he 
had  frequently  had  violent  headaches,  which,  however,  at 
longest  never  used  to  last  be3*ond  six  and  thirty  hours.  But 
now  they  were  continual ;  and,  when  they  mounted  to  a  high 
degree  of  pain,  his  moanings  tore  my  very  heart.  It  was  in 
these  tempestuous  seasons  that  I  chiefly  felt  my  bodily  weak- 
ness ;  because  it  kept  me  from  my  holiest  and  dearest  du- 
ties, or  rendered  the  performance  of  them  hard  to  an  extreme 
degree. 

It  was  now  that  I  could  try  whether  the  path  which  I  had 
chosen  was  the  path  of  fantasy  or  truth ;  whether  I  had 
merely  thought  as  others  showed  me,  or  the  object  of  my 
trust  had  a  reality.  To  my  unspeakable  support,  I  always 
found  the  latter.  The  straight  direction  of  my  heart  to 
God,  the  fellowship  of  the  "  Beloved  Ones,"  1 1  had  sought 
and  found ;  and  this  was  what  made  all  things  light  to  me. 
As  a  traveller  in  the  dark,  my  soul,  when  all  was  pressing  on 
me  from  without,  hastened  to  the  place  of  refuge  ;  and  never 
did  it  return  empty. 

In  later  times  some  champions  of  religion,  who  seem  to  be 
animated  more  by  zeal  than  feeling  for  it,  have  required  of 
their  brethren  to  produce  examples  of  prayers  actually  heard ; 
apparently  as  wishing  to  have  seal  and  signature,  that  so 
they  might  proceed  juridically  in  the  matter.  How  unknown 
must  the  true  feeling  be  to  these  persons !  how  few  real 
experiences  can  they  themselves  have  made ! 

I  can  say  that  I  never  returned  empty,  when  in  straits  and 
oppression  I  called  on  God.  This  is  saying  infinitely  much : 
more  I  must  not  and  can  not  say.  Important  as  each  experi- 
ence was  at  the  critical  moment  for  myself,  the  recital  of 
them  would  be  flat,  improbable,  and  insignificant,  were  I  to 
specify  the  separate  cases.  Happy  was  I,  that  a  thousand 
little  incidents  in  combination  proved,  as  clearly  as  the  draw- 
ing of  my  breath  proved  me  to  be  living,  that  I  was  not 
without  God  in  the  world.  He  was  near  to  me  :  I  was  be 
fore  him.  This  is  what,  with  a  diligent  avoidance  of  all 

»  So  in  the  original.  —  ED. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  345 

theological  systematic  terms,  I  can  with  the  greatest  truth 
declare. 

Much  do  I  wish,  that,  in  those  times  too,  I  had  been  en- 
tirely without  system.  But  which  of  us  arrives  early  at  the 
happiness  of  being  conscious  of  his  individual  self,  in  its 
own  pure  combination,  without  extraneous  forms?  I  was  in 
earnest  with  religion.  I  timidly  trusted  in  the  judgments  of 
others :  I  entirely  gave  in  to  the  Hallean  system  of  con- 
version, but  my  nature  would  by  no  means  tally  with  it. 

According  to  this  scheme  of  doctrine,  the  alteration  of  the 
heart  must  begin  with  a  deep  terror  on  account  of  sin :  the 
heart  in  this  agony  must  recognize,  in  a  less  or  greater 
degree,  the  punishment  which  it  has  merited,  must  get  a 
foretaste  of  hell,  and  so  embitter  the  delight  of  sin.  At  last 
it  feels  a  very  palpable  assurance  of  grace ;  which,  however, 
in  its  progress  often  fades  away,  and  must  again  be  sought 
with  earnest  prayer. 

Of  all  this  no  jot  or  tittle  happened  with  me.  When  I 
sought  God  sincerely,  he  let  himself  be  found  of  me,  and  did 
not  reproach  me  about  by-gone  things.  On  looking  back,  I 
saw  well  enough  where  I  had  been  unworthy,  where  I  still 
was  so  ;  but  the  confession  of  my  faults  was  altogether  with- 
out terror.  Not  for  a  moment  did  the  fear  of  hell  occur  to 
me ;  nay,  the  very  notion  of  a  wicked  spirit,  and  a  place  of 
punishment  and  torment  after  death,  could  nowise  gain 
admission  into  the  circle  of  my  thoughts.  I  considered  the 
men  who  lived  without  God,  whose  hearts  were  shut  against 
the  trust  in  and  the  love  of  the  Invisible,  as  already  so 
unhappy,  that  a  hell  and  external  pains  appeared  to  promise 
rather  an  alleviation  than  an  increase  of  their  misery.  I 
had  but  to  look  upon  the  persons,  in  this  world,  who  in  their 
breasts  gave  scope  to  hateful  feelings ;  who  hardened  their 
hearts  against  the  good  of  whatever  kind,  and  strove  to  force 
the  evil  on  themselves  and  others ;  who  shut  their  eyes  by 
day,  that  so  they  might  deny  the  shining  of  the  sun.  How 
unutterably  wretched  did  these  persons  seem  to  me  !  Who 
could  have  formed  a  hell  to  make  their  situation  worse  ? 

This  mood  of  mind  continued  in  me,  without  change,  for 
half  a  score  of  years.  It  maintained  itself  through  many 
trials,  even  at  the  moving  death-bed  of  my  beloved  mother. 
I  was  frank  enough,  on  this  occasion,  not  to  hide  my  comfort- 
able frame  of  mind  from  certain  pious  but  rigorously  ortho- 
dox people  ;  and  I  had  to  suffer  many  a  friendlj'  admonition 
on  that  score.  They  reckoned  they  were  just  in  season,  for 


346  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

explaining  with  what  earnestness  one  should  be  diligent  to 
lay  a  right  foundation  in  the  days  of  health  and  youth. 

In  earnestness  I,  too,  determined  not  to  fail.  For  the 
moment  I  allowed  myself  to  be  convinced  ;  and  fain  would 
I  have  grown,  for  life,  distressed  and  full  of  fears.  But 
what  was  my  surprise  on  finding  that  I  absolutely  could  not. 
When  I  thought  of  God,  I  was  cheerful  and  contented  :  even 
at  the  painful  end  of  my  dear  mother,  I  did  not  shudder  at 
the  thought  of  death.  Yet  I  learned  many  and  far  other 
things  than  my  uncalled  teachers  thought  of,  in  these  solemn 
hours. 

By  degrees  I  grew  to  doubt  the  dictates  of  so  many 
famous  people,  and  retained  my  own  sentiments  in  silence. 
A  certain  lady  of  my  friends,  to  whom  I  had  at  first  disclosed 
too  much,  insisted  always  on  interfering  with  my  business. 
Of  her,  too,  I  was  obliged  to  rid  myself :  I  at  last  firmly  told 
her,  that  she  might  spare  herself  this  labor,  as  I  did  not  need 
her  counsel ;  that  I  knew  my  God,  and  would  have  no  guide 
but  him.  She  was  greatly  offended :  I  believe  she  never 
quite  forgave  me. 

Such  determination  to  withdraw  from  the  advices  and  the 
influence  of  my  friends,  in  spiritual  matters,  produced  the  con- 
sequence, that  also  in  my  temporal  affairs  I  gained  sufficient 
courage  to  obey  my  own  persuasions.  But  for  the  assistance 
of  my  faithful,  invisible  Leader,  I  could  not  have  prospered 
here.  I  am  still  gratefully  astonished  at  his  wise  and  happy 
guidance.  No  one  knew  how  matters  stood  with  me  :  even 
I  myself  did  not  know. 

The  thing,  the  wicked  and  inexplicable  thing,  which  sepa- 
rates us  from  the  Being  to  whom  we  owe  our  life,  and  in 
whom  all  that  deserves  the  name  of  life  must  find  its  nour- 
ishment, —  the  thing  which  we  call  sin  I  yet  knew  nothing 
of. 

In  my  intercourse  with  my  invisible  Friend,  I  felt  the 
sweetest  enjoyment  of  all  my  powers.  My  desire  of  con- 
stantly enjoying  this  felicity  was  so  predominant,  that  I 
abandoned  without  hesitation  whatever  marred  our  inter- 
course ;  and  here  experience  was  my  best  teacher.  But  it 
was  with  me  as  with  sick  persons  who  have  no  medicine,  and 
try  to  help  themselves  by  diet :  something  is  accomplished, 
but  far  from  enough. 

I  could  not  always  live  in  solitude,  though  in  it  I  found 
the  best  preservative  against  the  dissipation  of  my  thoughts. 
On  returning  to  the  tumult,  the  impression  it  produced  upon 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  347 

me  was  the  deeper  for  my  previous  loneliness.  My  most 
peculiar  advantage  lay  in  this,  that  love  for  quiet  was  my 
ruling  passion,  and  that  in  the  end  I  still  drew  back  to  it.  I 
perceived,  as  in  a  kind  of  twilight,  my  weakness  and  my  misery, 
and  tried  to  save  myself  by  avoiding  danger  and  exposure. 

For  seven  years  I  had  used  my  dietetic  scheme.  I  held 
myself  not  wicked,  and  I  thought  my  state  desirable.  But 
for  some  peculiar  circumstances  and  occurrences  I  had  re- 
mained in  this  position  :  it  was  by  a  curious  path  that  I  got 
farther.  Contrary  to  the  advice  of  all  my  friends,  I  entered 
on  a  new  connection.  Their  objections,  at  first,  made  me 
pause.  I  turned  to  my  invisible  Leader;  and,  as  he  per- 
mitted me,  I  went  forward  without  fear. 

A  man  of  spirit,  heart,  and  talents  had  bought  a  property 
beside  us.  Among  the  strangers  whom  I  grew  acquainted 
with,  were  this  person  and  his  family.  In  our  manners, 
domestic  economy,  and  habits  we  accorded  well ;  and  thus 
we  soon  approximated  to  each  other. 

Philo,  as  I  propose  to  call  him,  was  already  middle-aged: 
in  certain  matters  he  was  highly  serviceable  to  my  father, 
whose  strength  was  now  decaying.  He  soon  became  the 
friend  of  the  family :  and  finding  in  me,  as  he  was  pleased 
to  say,  a  person  free  alike  from  the  extravagance  and  empti- 
ness of  the  great  world,  and  from  the  narrowness  and  arid- 
ness  of  the  still  world  in  the  country,  he  courted  intimacy 
with  me ;  and  erelong  we  were  in  one  another's  confidence. 
To  me  he  was  very  pleasing  and  useful. 

Though  I  did  not  feel  the  smallest  inclination  or  capacity 
for  mingling  in  public  business,  or  seeking  any  influence  on 
it,  yet  I  liked  to  hear  about  such  matters,  —  liked  to  know 
whatever  happened  far  and  near.  Of  worldly  things,  I  loved 
to  get  a  clear  though  unconcerned  perception :  feeling,  sym- 
pathy, affection,  I  reserved  for  God,  for  my  people,  and  my 
friends. 

The  latter  were,  if  I  may  say  so,  jealous  of  Philo,  in  my 
new  connection  with  him.  In  more  than  one  sense,  they  were 
right  in  warning  me  about  it.  I  suffered  much  in  secret, 
for  even  I  could  not  consider  their  remonstrances  as  alto- 
gether empty  or  selfish.  I  had  been  accustomed,  from  of 
old,  to  give  a  reason  for  my  views  and  conduct ;  but  in  this 
case  my  conviction  would  not  follow.  I  prayed  to  God,  that 
here,  as  elsewhere,  he  would  warn,  restrain,  and  guide  me ; 
and,  as  my  heart  on  this  did  not  dissuade  me,  I  went  for- 
ward oil  my  way  with  comfort. 


348  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

Philo,  on  the  whole,  had  a  remote  resemblance  to  Narciss ; 
only  a  pious  education  had  more  enlivened  and  concentrated 
his  feelings.  He  had  less  vanity,  more  character ;  and  in 
business,  if  Narciss  was  delicate,  exact,  persevering,  inde- 
fatigable, the  other  was  clear,  sharp,  quick,  and  capable  of 
working  with  incredible  ease.  By  means  of  him  I  learned 
the  secret  history  of  almost  every  noble  personage  with 
whose  exterior  I  had  got  acquainted  in  society.  It  was  pleas- 
ant for  me  to  behold  the  tumult,  off  my  watch-tower  from 
afar.  Philo  could  now  hide  nothing  from  me :  he  confided 
to  me,  by  degrees,  his  own  concerns,  both  inward  and  out- 
ward. I  was  in  fear  because  of  him,  for  I  foresaw  certain 
circumstances  and  entanglements ;  and  the  mischief  came 
more  speedily  than  I  had  looked  for.  There  were  some  confes- 
sions he  had  still  kept  back,  and  even  at  last  he  told  me  only 
what  enabled  me  to  guess  the  worst. 

What  an  effect  had  this  upon  my  heart !  I  attained  experi- 
ences which  to  me  were  altogether  new.  With  infinite  sor- 
row I  beheld  an  Agathon,  who,  educated  in  the  groves  of 
Delphi,  still  owed  his  school-fees,  which  he  was  now  obliged 
to  pay  with  their  accumulated  interest ;  and  this  Agathon 
was  my  especial  friend.  My  sympathy  was  lively  and  com- 
plete ;  I  suffered  with  him  ;  both  of  us  were  in  the  strangest 
state. 

After  having  long  occupied  myself  with  the  temper  of  his 
mind,  I  at  last  turned  round  to  contemplate  my  own.  The 
thought,  "  Thou  art  no  better  than  he,"  rose  like  a  little 
cloud  before  me,  and  gradually  expanded  till  it  darkened  all 
my  soul. 

I  now  not  only  thought  myself  no  better  than  he :  I  felt 
this,  and  felt  it  as  I  should  not  wish  to  do  again.  Nor  was 
it  any  transitory  mood.  For  more  than  a  year,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  feel,  that,  had  not  an  unseen  hand  restrained  me,  I 
might  have  become  a  Girard,  a  Cartouche,  a  Damiens,  or 
any  wretch  you  can  imagine.  The  tendencies  to  this  I  traced 
too  clearly  in  my  heart.  Heavens,  what  a  discovery ! 

If  hitherto  I  had  never  been  able,  in  the  faintest  degree, 
to  recognize  in  myself  the  reality  of  sin  by  experience,  its 
possibility  was  now  become  apparent  to  me  by  anticipation, 
in  the  frightf ullest  manner.  And  yet  I  knew  not  evil ;  I  but 
feared  it :  I  felt  that  I  might  be  guilty,  and  could  not  accuse 
myself  of  being  so. 

Deeply  as  I  was  convinced  that  such  a  temperament  of 
soul,  as  I  now  saw  mine  to  be,  could  never  be  adapted  for 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  349 

that  union  with  the  invisible  Being  which  I  hoped  for  after 
death,  I  did  not,  in  the  smallest,  fear  that  I  should  finally 
oe  separated  from  him.  With  all  the  wickedness  which  I 
discovered  in  my  heart,  I  still  loved  Him:  I  hated  what 
I  felt,  nay,  wished  to  hate  it  still  more  earnestly  ;  my  whole 
desire  was,  to  be  delivered  from  this  sickness,  and  this  ten- 
dency to  sickness  ;  and  I  was  persuaded  that  the  great  Physi- 
cian would  at  length  vouchsafe  his  help. 

The  sole  question  was,  What  medicine  will  cure  this 
malady?  The  practice  of  virtue?  This  1  could  not  for  a 
moment  think.  For  ten  years  1  had  already  practised  more 
than  mere  virtue  ;  and  the  horrors  now  first  discovered  had,  all 
the  while,  lain  hidden  at  the  bottom  of  my  soul.  Might  they 
not  have  broken  out  with  me,  as  they  did  with  David  when 
he  looked  on  Bathsheba  ?  Yet  was  not  he  a  friend  of  God ! 
and  was  not  I  assured,  in  my  inmost  heart,  that  God  was  my 
friend  ? 

Was  it,  then,  an  unavoidable  infirmity  of  human  nature? 
Must  we  just  content  ourselves  in  feeling  and  acknowledging 
the  sovereignty  of  inclination?  And,  with  the  best  will,  is 
there  nothing  left  for  us  but  to  abhor  the  fault  we  have  com- 
mitted, and  on  the  like  occasion  to  commit  it  again  ? 

From  systems  of  morality  I  could  obtain  no  comfort. 
Neither  their  severity,  by  which  they  try  to  bend  our  inclina- 
tions, nor  their  attractiveness,  by  which  they  try  to  place  our 
inclinations  on  the  side  of  virtue,  gave  me  any  satisfaction. 
The  fundamental  notions,  which  I  had  imbibed  from  inter- 
course with  my  invisible  Friend,  were  of  far  higher  value  to 
me. 

Once,  while  I  was  studying  the  songs  composed  by  David 
after  that  tremendous  fall,  it  struck  me  very  much  that  he 
traced  his  indwelling  corruption  even  in  the  substance  out  of 
which  he  had  been  shaped ;  yet  that  he  wished  to  be  freed 
from  sin,  and  that  he  earnestly  entreated  for  a  pure  heart. 

But  how  was  this  to  be  attained  ?  The  answer  from  Scrip- 
ture I  was  well  aware  of :  "  that  the  blood  of  Jesus  cleanseth 
us  from  all  sin,"  was  a  Bible  truth  which  I  had  long  known. 
But  now,  for  the  first  time,  I  observed  that  as  yet  I  had  never 
understood  this  oft- repeated  saying.  The  questions,  What 
does  it  mean  ?  How  is  it  to  be  ?  were  day  and  night  work- 
ing out  their  answers  in  me.  At  last  I  thought  I  saw,  as  by 
a  gleam  of  light,  that  what  I  sought  was  to  be  found  in  the 
incarnation  of  the  everlasting  Word,  b}'  whom  all  things, 
even  we  ourselves,  were  made.  That  the  Eternal  descended 


350  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

as  an  inhabitant  to  the  depths  in  which  we  dwell,  which  he 
surveys  and  comprehends ;  that  he  passed  througn  our  lot 
from  stage  to  stage,  from  conception  and  birth  to  the  grave ; 
that  by  this  marvellous  circuit  he  again  mounted  to  those 
shining  heights,  whither  we  too  must  rise  in  order  to  be 
happy  :  all  this  was  revealed  to  me,  as  in  a  dawning  remote- 
ness. 

Oh !  why  must  we,  in  speaking  of  such  things,  make  use 
of  figures  which  can  only  indicate  external  situations  ?  Where 
is  there  in  his  eyes  aught  high  or  deep,  aught  dark  or  clear? 
It  is  we  only  that  have  an  Under  and  Upper,  a  night  and 
day.  And  even  for  this  did  he  become  like  us,  since  other- 
wise we  could  have  had  no  part  in  him. 

But  how  shall  we  obtain  a  share  in  this  priceless  benefit  ? 
"By  faith,"  the  Scripture  says.  And  what  is  faith?  To 
consider  the  account  of  an  event  as  true,  what  help  can  this 
afford  me  ?  I  must  be  enabled  to  appropriate  its  effects,  its 
consequences.  This  appropriating  faith  must  be  a  state  of 
mind  peculiar,  and,  to  the  natural  man,  unknown. 

"Now,  gracious  Father,  grant  me  faith!"  so  prayed  I 
once,  in  the  deepest  heaviness  of  heart.  I  was  leaning  on  a 
little  table,  where  I  sat:  my  tear-stained  countenance  was 
hidden  in  my  hands.  I  was  now  in  the  condition  in  which 
we  seldom  are,  but  in  which  we  are  required  to  be,  if  God 
is  to  regard  our  prayers. 

Oh,  that  I  could  but  paint  what  I  felt  then !  A  sudden 
force  drew  my  soul  to  the  cross  where  Jesus  once  expired : 
it  was  a  sudden  force,  a  pull,  I  cannot  name  it  otherwise, 
such  as  leads  our  soul  to  an  absent  loved  one ;  an  approxi- 
mation, which,  perhaps,  is  far  more  real  and  true  than  we 
imagine.  So  did  my  soul  approach  the  Son  of  man,  who 
died  upon  the  cross  ;  and  that  instant  did  I  know  what  faith 
was. 

"  This  is  faith !  "  said  I,  and  started  up  as  if  half  fright- 
ened. I  now  endeavored  to  get  certain  of  my  feeling,  of 
my  view  ;  and  shortly  I  became  convinced  that  my  soul  had 
acquired  a  power  of  soaring  upwards  which  was  altogether 
new  to  it. 

Words  fail  us  in  describing  such  emotions.  I  could  most 
distinctly  separate  them  from  all  fantasy  :  they  were  entirely 
without  fantasy,  without  image  ;  yet  they  gave  us  just  such 
certainty  of  their  referring  to  some  object  as  our  imagina- 
tion gives  us  when  it  paints  the  features  of  an  absent  lover. 

When  the  first  rapture  was  over,  I  observed  that  my  present 


\ 

MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  351 

condition  of  mind  had  formerly  been  known  to  me ;  only  I 
had  never  felt  it  in  such  strength ;  I  had  never  held  it  fast, 
never  made  it  mine.  I  believe,  indeed,  every  human  soul  at 
intervals  feels  something  of  it.  Doubtless  it  is  this  which 
teaches  every  mortal  that  there  is  a  God. 

With  such  faculty,  wont  from  of  old  to  visit  me  now  and 
then,  I  had  hitherto  been  well  content:  and  had  not,  by  a 
singular  arrangement  of  events,  that  unexpected  sorrow 
weighed  upon  me  for  a  twelvemonth  ;  had  not  my  own  ability 
and  strength,  on  that  occasion,  altogether  lost  credit  with 
me,  —  I  perhaps  might  have  remained  content  with  such  a 
state  of  matters  all  my  days. 

But  now,  since  that  great  moment,  I  had,  as  it  were,  got 
wings.  I  could  mount  aloft  above  what  used  to  threaten  me  ; 
as  the  bird  can  fly  singing  and  with  ease  across  the  fiercest 
stream,  while  the  little  dog  stands  anxiously  baying  on  the 
bank. 

My  joy  was  indescribable  ;  and,  though  I  did  not  mention 
it  to  any  one,  my  people  soon  observed  an  unaccustomed 
cheerfulness  in  me,  and  could  not  understand  the  reason  of 
my  joy.  Had  I  but  forever  held  my  peace,  and  tried  to 
nourish  this  serene  temper  in  my  soul ;  had  I  not  allowed 
myself  to  be  misled  by  circumstances,  so  as  to  reveal  my 
secret,  —  I  might  then  have  been  saved  once  more  a  long  and 
tedious  circuit. 

As  in  the  previous  ten  years  of  my  Christian  course,  this 
necessary  force  had  not  existed  in  my  soul,  I  had  just  been 
in  the  case  of  other  worthy  people,  —  had  helped  myself  by 
keeping  my  fancy  always  full  of  images,  which  had  some 
reference  to  God,  —  a  practice  so  far  truly  useful ;  for  nox- 
ious images  and  their  baneful  consequences  are  by  that 
means  kept  away.  Often,  too,  our  spirit  seizes  one  or  other 
of  these  spiritual  images,  and  mounts  with  it  a  little  way  up- 
wards, like  a  young  bird  fluttering  from  twig  to  twig. 

Images  and  impressions  pointing  towards  God  are  pre- 
sented to  us  by  the  institutions  of  the  Church,  by  organs, 
bells,  singing,  and  particularly  by  the  preaching  of  our 
pastors.  Of  these  I  used  to  be  unspeakably  desirous ;  no 
weather,  no  bodily  weakness,  could  keep  me  from  church ; 
the  sound  of  the  Sunday  bells  was  the  only  thing  that  ren- 
dered me  impatient  on  a  sick-bed.  Our  head  court-chaplain, 
a  gifted  man,  I  heard  with  great  pleasure  ;  his  colleagues, 
too,  I  liked :  and  I  could  pick  the  golden  apple  of  the  Word 
from  the  common  fruit,  with  which  on  earthen  platters  it  was 


352  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

mingled.  "With  public  ordinances,  all  sorts  of  private  exer- 
cises were  combined ;  and  these,  too,  only  nourished  fancy 
and  a  finer  kind  of  sense.  I  was  so  accustomed  to  this 
track,  I  reverenced  it  so  much,  that  even  now  no  higher  one 
occurred  to  me.  For  my  soul  has  only  feelers,  and  not  eyes  : 
it  gropes,  but  does  not  see.  Ah !  that  it  could  get  eyes,  and 
look ! 

Now  again,  therefore,  I  went  with  a  longing  mind  to  ser- 
mon ;  but,  alas  !  what  happened  ?  I  no  longer  found  what  I 
was  wont  to  find.  These  preachers  were  blunting  their  teeth 
on  the  shell,  while  I  enjoyed  the  kernel.  I  soon  grew  weary 
of  them  ;  and  I  had  already  been  so  spoiled,  that  I  could  not 
be  content  with  the  little  they  afforded  me.  I  required 
images,  I  wanted  impressions  from  without,  and  reckoned  it 
a  pure  spiritual  desire  that  I  felt. 

Philo's  parents  had  been  in  connection  with  the  Herrn- 
huter  Community :  in  his  library  were  many  writings  of 
Count  Zinzendorf's.  He  had  spoken  with  me,  more  ^han 
once,  very  candidly  and  clearly  on  the  subject ;  inviting  me 
to  turn  over  one  or  two  of  these  treatises,  if  it  were  but  for 
the  sake  of  studying  a  psychological  phenomenon.  I  looked 
upon  the  count,  and  those  that  followed  him,  as  very  hetero- 
dox ;  and  so  the  Ebersdorf  Hymn-book,  which  my  friend  had 
pressed  upon  me,  lay  unread. 

However,  in  this  total  destitution  of  external  excitements 
for  my  soul,  I  opened  the  hymn-book,  as  it  were,  by  chance, 
and  found  in  it,  to  my  astonishment,  some  songs  which  ac- 
tually, though  under  a  fantastic  form,  appeared  to  shadow 
what  I  felt.  The  originality  and  simplicity  of  their  expres- 
sion drew  me  on.  It  seemed  to  be  peculiar  emotions  ex- 
pressed in  a  peculiar  way :  no  school  technology  suggested 
any  notion  of  formality  or  commonplace.  I  was  persuaded 
that  these  people  felt  as  I  did :  I  was  very  happy  to  lay  hold 
of  here  and  there  a  stanza  in  their  songs,  to  fix  it  in  my 
memory,  and  carry  it  about  with  me  for  days. 

Since  the  moment  when  the  truth  had  been  revealed  to  me, 
some  three  months  had  in  this  way  passed  on.  At  last  I 
came  to  the  resolution  of  disclosing  every  thing  to  Philo,  and 
asking  him  to  let  me  have  those  writings,  about  which  I  had 
now  become  immoderately  curious.  Accordingly  I  did  so, 
notwithstanding  there  was  something  in  my  heart  which  ear- 
nestly dissuaded  me. 

I  circumstantially  related  to  him  all  the  story ;  and  as  he 
was  himself  a  leading  person  in  it,  and  my  narrative  con- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  353 

veyed  the  sharpest  reprimand  on  him,  he  felt  surprised  and 
moved  to  an  extreme  degree.  He  melted  into  tears.  I  re- 
joiced ;  believing  that,  in  his  mind  also,  a  full  and  funda- 
mental change  had  taken  place. 

He  provided  me  with  all  the  writings  I  could  require,  and 
now  I  had  excess  of  nourishment  for  my  imagination.  I 
made  rapid  progress  in  the  Zinzendorfic  mode  of  thought  and 
speech.  And  be  it  not  supposed  that  I  am  yet  incapable  of 
prizing  the  peculiar  turn  and  manner  of  the  count.  I  will- 
ingly do  him  justice :  he  is  no  empty  fantast ;  he  speaks  of 
mighty  truths,  and  mostly  in  a  bold,  figurative  style ;  the 
people  who  despise  him  know  not  either  how  to  value  or  dis- 
criminate his  qualities. 

At  that  time  I  became  exceedingly  attached  to  him.  Had 
I  been  mistress  of  myself,  I  would  certainly  have  left  my 
friends  and  country,  and  gone  to  join  him.  We  should  in- 
fallibly have  understood  each  other,  and  should  hardly  have 
agreed  together  long. 

Thanks  to  my  better  genius,  that  now  kept  me  so  confined 
l>y  my  domestic  duties  !  1  reckoned  it  a  distant  journey  if  I 
visited  the  garden.  The  charge  of  my  aged,  weakly  father 
afforded  me  employment  enough ;  and  in  hours  of  recreation, 
]  had  Fancy  to  procure  me  pastime.  The  only  mortal  whom 
1  saw  was  Philo ;  he  was  highly  valued  by  my  father ;  but, 
with  me,  his  intimacy  had  been  cooled  a  little  by  the  late  ex- 
planation. Its  influence  on  him  had  not  penetrated  deep : 
and,  as  some  attempts  to  talk  in  my  dialect  had  not  succeeded 
with  him,  he  avoided  touching  on  this  subject ;  and  the  rather, 
as  his  extensive  knowledge  put  it  always  in  his  power  to  in- 
troduce new  topics  in  his  conversation. 

I  was  thus  a  Herrnhut  sister  on  my  own  footing.  I  had 
especially  to  hide  this  new  turn  of  my  temper  and  my  incli- 
nutious  from  the  head  court-chaplain,  whom,  as  my  father 
confessor,  I  had  much  cause  to  honor,  and  whose  high 
merits  his  extreme  aversion  to  the  Herrnhut  Community 
dkl  not  diminish,  in  my  eyes,  even  then.  Unhappily  this 
worthy  person  had  to  suffer  many  troubles  on  account  of  me 
and  others. 

Several  years  ago  he  had  become  acquainted  with  an  up- 
right, pious  gentleman,  residing  in  a  distant  quarter,  and  had 
long  continued  in  unbroken  correspondence  with  him,  as  with 
one  who  truly  sought  God.  How  painful  was  it  to  the  spir- 
itual leader,  when  this  gentleman  subsequently  joined  himself 
to  the  Community  of  Herrnhut,  where  he  lived  for  a  long 


354  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

while !  How  delightful,  on  the  other  hand,  when  at  length 
he  quarrelled  with  the  brethren,  determined  to  settle  in  our 
neighborhood,  and  seemed  once  more  to  yield  himself  com- 
pletely to  the  guidance  of  his  ancient  friend  ! 

The  stranger  was  presented,  as  in  triumph,  by  the  upper 
pastor,  to  all  the  chosen  lambs  of  his  fold.  To  our  house 
alone  he  was  not  introduced,  because  my  father  did  not  now 
see  company.  The  gentleman  obtained  no  little  approbation  : 
he  combined  the  polish  of  the  court  with  the  winning  manner 
of  the  brethren ;  and,  having  also  many  fine  qualities  by 
nature,  he  soon  became  the  favorite  saint  with  all  who  knew 
him,  —  a  result  at  which  the  chaplain  was  exceedingly  con- 
tented. But,  alas  !  it  was  merely  in  externals  that  the  gentle- 
man had  split  with  the  Community :  in  his  heart  he  was  yet 
entirely  a  Herrnhuter.  He  was,  in  truth,  concerned  for  the 
reality  of  the  matter;  but  yet  the  gimcracks,  which  the 
count  had  stuck  round  it,  were,  at  the  same  time,  quite 
adapted  to  his  taste.  Besides,  he  had  now  become  accus- 
tomed to  this  mode  of  speaking  and  conceiving :  and,  if  he 
had  to  hide  it  carefully  from  his  old  friend,  the  gladder  was 
he,  in  any  knot  of  trusty  persons,  to  come  forth  with  his 
couplets,  litanies,  and  little  figures  ;  in  which,  as  might  have 
been  supposed,  he  met  with  great  applause. 

I  knew  nothing  of  the  whole  affair,  and  wandered  quietly 
along  in  my  separate  path.  For  a  good  while  we  continued 
mutually  unknown. 

Once,  in  a  leisure  hour,  I  happened  to  visit  a  lady  who  was 
sick.  I  found  several  acquaintances  with  her,  and  soon 
perceived  that  my  appearance  had  cut  short  their  conversa- 
tion. I  affected  not  to  notice  any  thing,  but  saw  erelong, 
with  great  surprise,  some  Herrnhut  figures  stuck  upon  the 
wall  in  elegant  frames.  Quickly  comprehending  what  had 
passed  before  my  entrance,  I  expressed  my  pleasure  at  the 
sight,  in  a  few  suitable  verses. 

Conceive  the  wonder  of  my  friends !  We  explained  our- 
selves :  instantly  we  were  agreed,  and  in  each  other's  con- 
fidence. 

I  often  henceforth  sought  opportunities  of  going  out.  Un- 
happily I  found  such  only  once  in  the  three  or  four  weeks ; 
yet  I  grew  acquainted  with  our  gentleman  apostle,  and  by 
degrees  with  all  the  body.  I  visited  their  meetings  when  I 
could :  with  my  social  disposition,  it  was  quite  delightful  for 
me  to  communicate  to  others,  and  to  hear  from  them,  the  feel- 
ings which,  till  now,  I  had  conceived  and  harbored  by  myself. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  355 

But  I  was  not  so  completely  taken  with  my  friends,  as  not 
to  see  that  few  of  them  could  really  feel  the  sense  of  those 
affecting  words  and  emblems  ;  and  that  from  these  they  drew 
as  little  benefit  as  formerly  they  did  from  the  symbolic  lan- 
guage of  the  Church.  Yet,  notwithstanding,  I  went  on  with 
them,  not  letting  this  disturb  me.  I  thought  I  was  not  called 
to  search  and  try  the  hearts  of  others.  Had  not  I,  too,  by 
long-continued  innocent  exercisings  of  that  sort,  been  pre- 
pared for  something  better?  I  had  my  share  of  profit  from 
our  meetings :  in  speaking,  I  insisted  on  attending  to  the 
sense  and  spirit,  which,  in  things  so  delicate,  is  rather  apt  to 
be  disguised  by  words  than  indicated  by  them  ;  and  for  the 
rest,  I  left,  with  silent  tolerance,  each  to  act  according  to  his 
own  conviction. 

'These  quiet  times  of  secret  social  joy  were  shortly  fol- 
lowed by  storms  of  open  bickering  and  contradiction,  —  con- 
tentions which  excited  great  commotion,  I  might  almost  say 
occasioned  not  a  little  scandal,  in  court  and  town.  The 
period  was  now  arrived  when  our  chaplain,  that  stout  gain- 
say er  of  the  Herrnhut  Brethren,  must  discover  to  his  deep, 
but,  I  trust,  sanctified  humiliation,  that  his  best  and  once  most 
zealous  hearers  were  now  all  leaning  to  the  side  of  that  com- 
munity. He  was  excessively  provoked :  in  the  first  moments 
he  forgot  all  moderation,  and  could  not,  even  if  he  had 
inclined  it,  retract  afterwards.  Violent  debates  took  place, 
in  which  happily  I  was  not  mentioned,  both  as  being  an  acci- 
dental member  of  those  hated  meetings,  and  then  because, 
in  respect  of  certain  civic  matters,  our  zealous  preacher 
could  not  safely  disoblige  either  my  father  or  my  friend. 
With  silent  satisfaction  I  continued  neutral.  It  was  irk- 
some to  me  to  converse  about  such  feelings  and  objects, 
even  with  well-affected  people,  when  they  could  not  pene- 
trate the  deepest  sense,  and  lingered  merely  on  the  surface. 
But  to  strive  with  adversaries,  about  things  on  which  even 
friends  could  scarcely  understand  each  other,  seemed  to  me 
unprofitable,  nay,  pernicious.  For  I  soon  perceived,  that 
many  amiable  noblemen,  who  on  this  occurrence  could  not 
shut  their  hearts  to  enmity  and  hatred,  had  rapidly  passed 
over  to  injustice,  and,  in  order  to  defend  an  outward  form, 
had  almost  sacrificed  their  most  substantial  duties. 

Far  as  the  worthy  clergyman  might,  in  the  present  case,  be 
wrong  ;  much  as  others  tried  to  irritate  me  at  him,  —  I  could 
never  hesitate  to  give  him  my  sincere  respect.  I  knew  him 
well:  I  could  candidly  transport  myself  into  his  way  of 


356  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

looking  at  these  matters.  I  have  never  seen  a  man  without 
his  weaknesses  :  only  in  distinguished  men  they  strike  us  more. 
We  wish,  and  will  at  all  rates  have  it,  that  persons  privileged 
as  they  are  should  at  the  same  time  pay  no  tribute,  no  tax 
whatever.  I  honored  him  as  a  superior  man,  and  hoped  to 
use  the  influence  of  my  calm  neutrality  to  bring  about,  if 
not  a  peace,  at  least  a  truce.  I  know  not  what  my  efforts 
might  have  done  ;  but  God  concluded  the  affair  more  briefly, 
and  took  the  chaplain  to  himself.  On  his  coffin  all  wept, 
who  had  lately  been  striving  with  him  about  words.  His  up- 
rightness, his  fear  of  God,  no  one  had  ever  doubted. 

I,  too,  was  erelong  forced  to  lay  aside  this  Herrnhut  doll- 
work,  which,  by  means  of  these  contentions,  now  appeared 
before  me  in  a  rather  different  light.  Our  uncle  had,  in 
silence,  executed  his  intentions  with  my  sister.  He  offered 
her  a  young  man  of  rank  and  fortune  as  a  bridegroom,  and 
showed,  by  a  rich  dowry,  what  might  be  expected  of  him- 
self. My  father  joyfully  consented  :  my  sister  was  free  and 
forewarned ;  she  did  not  hesitate  to  change  her  state.  The 
bridal  was  appointed  at  my  uncle's  castle :  family  and 
friends  were  all  invited,  and  we  came  together  in  the  cheer- 
fullest  mood. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  the  aspect  of  a  house  excited 
admiration  in  me.  I  had  often  heard  of  my  uncle's  taste, 
of  his  Italian  architect,  of  his  collections  and  his  library ; 
but,  comparing  this  with  what  I  had  already  seen,  I  had 
formed  a  very  vague  and  fluctuating  picture  of  it  in  my 
thoughts.  Great,  accordingly,  was  my  surprise  at  the  ear- 
nest and  harmonious  impression  which  I  felt  on  entering  the 
house,  and  which  every  hall  and  chamber  deepened.  If 
elsewhere  pomp  and  decoration  had  but  dissipated  my  atten- 
tion, I  felt  here  concentrated  and  drawn  back  upon  m}'self. 
In  like  manner  the  preparatives  for  these  solemnities  and 
festivals  produced  a  silent  pleasure,  by  their  air  of  dignity 
and  splendor ;  and  to  me  it  seemed  as  inconceivable  that 
one  man  could  have  invented  and  arranged  all  this,  as  that 
more  than  one  could  have  worked  together  in  so  high  a  spirit. 
Yet,  withal,  the  landlord  and  his  people  were  entirely  natural : 
not  a  trace  of  stiffness  or  of  empty  form  was  to  be  seen. 

The  wedding  itself  was  managed  in  a  striking  way :  an 
exquisite  strain  of  vocal  music  came  upon  us  by  surprise, 
and  the  clergyman  went  through  the  ceremony  with  a  singu- 
lar solemnity.  I  was  standing  by  Philo  at  the  time ;  and, 
instead  of  a  congratulation,  he  whispered  in  my  ear,  "•  When 


MEISTEirS  APPRENTICESHIP.  357 

I  saw  your  sister  give  awa}*  her  hand,  I  felt  as  if  a  stream  of 
boiling  water  had  been  poured  over  me." — "Why  so?"  I 
inquired.  "  It  is  always  the  way  with  me,"  said  he,  "  when 
I  see  two  people  joined."  I  laughed  at  him,  but  I  have 
often  since  had  cause  to  recollect  his  words. 

The  revel  of  the  party,  among  whom  were  many  young 
people,  looked  particularly  glittering  and  airy  ;  as  every  thing 
around  us  was  dignified  and  serious.  The  furniture,  plate, 
table-ware,  and  table-ornaments  accorded  with  the  general 
whole ;  and  if  in  other  houses  you  would  say  the  architect 
was  of  the  school  of  the  confectioner,  it  here  appeared  as  if 
even  our  confectioner  and  butler  had  taken  lessons  from  the 
architect. 

We  staid  together  several  days,  and  our  intelligent  and 
gifted  landlord  had  variedly  provided  for  the  entertainment 
of  his  guests.  I  did  not  in  the  present  case  repeat  the  mel- 
ancholy proof,  which  has  so  often  in  my  life  been  forced 
upon  me,  how  unhappily  a  large  mixed  company  are  situated, 
when,  altogether  left  to  themselves,  they  have  to  select  the 
most  general  and  vapid  pastimes,  that  the  fools  of  the  party 
may  not  want  amusement,  however  it  may  fare  with  those 
that  are  not  such. 

My  uncle  had  arranged  it  altogether  differently.  Two  or 
three  marshals,  if  I  may  call  them  so,  had  been  appointed 
by  him :  one  of  them  had  charge  of  providing  entertainment 
for  the  young.  Dances,  excursions,  little  games,  were  of 
his  invention  and  under  his  direction :  and  as  young  people 
take  delight  in  being  out-of-doors,  and  do  not  fear  the  influ- 
ences of  the  air,  the  garden  and  garden-hall  had  been 
assigned  to  them  ;  while  some  additional  pavilions  and  gal- 
leries had  been  erected  and  appended  to  the  latter,  formed 
of  boards  and  canvas  merely,  but  in  such  proportions,  so 
elegant  and  noble,  they  reminded  one  of  nothing  but  stone 
and  marble. 

How  rare  is  a  festivity  in  which  the  person  who  invites  the 
guests  feels  also  that  it  is  his  duty  to  provide  for  their  con- 
veniences and  wants  of  every  kind ! 

Hunting  and  card  parties,  short  promenades,  opportunities 
for  trustful  private  conversations,  were  afforded  the  elder 
persons  ;  and  whoever  wished  to  go  earliest  to  bed  was  sure 
to  be  lodged  the  farthest  from  noise. 

By  this  happy  order,  the  space  we  lived  in  appeared  to  be  a 
little  world  :  and  yet,  considered  narrowly,  the  castle  was  not 
large  ;  without  au  accurate  knowledge  of  it,  and  without  the 


358  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

spirit  of  its  owner,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  enter- 
tain so  many  people  here,  and  quarter  each  according  to  his 
humor. 

As  the  aspect  of  a  well-formed  person  pleases  us,  so  also 
does  a  fair  establishment,  by  means  of  which  the  presence 
of  a  rational,  intelligent  mind  is  manifested.  We  feel  a  joy 
in  entering  even  a  cleanly  house,  though  it  may  be  tasteless 
in  its  structure  and  its  decorations,  because  it  shows  us  the 
presence  of  a  person  cultivated  in  at  least  one  sense.  Doubly 
pleasing  is  it,  therefore,  when,  from  a  human  dwelling,  the 
spirit  of  a  higher  though  merely  sensual  culture  speaks  to  us. 

All  this  was  vividly  impressed  on  my  observation  at  my 
uncle's  castle.  I  had  heard  and  read  much  of  art ;  Philo, 
too,  was  a  lover  of  pictures,  and  had  a  fine  collection :  I 
myself  had  often  practised  drawing ;  but  I  had  been  too 
deeply  occupied  with  my  emotions,  striving  exclusively  after 
the  one  thing  needful,  which  alone  I  was  bent  on  carrying  to 
perfection ;  and  then,  such  objects  of  art  as  I  had  hitherto 
seen,  appeared,  like  all  other  worldly  objects,  to  distract  my 
thoughts.  But  now,  for  the  first  time,  outward  things  had 
led  me  back  upon  myself :  I  now  first  perceived  the  differ- 
ence between  the  natural  charm  of  the  nightingale's  song, 
and  that  of  a  four-voiced  anthem  pealed  from  the  expressive 
organs  of  men. 

My  joy  over  this  discovery  I  did  not  hide  from  my  uncle, 
who,  when  all  the  rest  were  settled  at  their  posts,  was  wont 
to  come  and  talk  with  me  in  private.  He  spoke  with  great 
modesty  of  what  he  possessed  and  had  produced  here,  with 
great  decision  of  the  views  in  which  it  had  been  gathered 
and  arranged :  and  I  could  easily  observe  that  he  spoke  with 
a  forbearance  towards  me ;  seeming,  in  his  usual  way,  to 
rate  the  excellence,  which  he  himself  possessed  below  that 
other  excellence,  which,  in  my  way  of  thinking,  was  the  best 
and  properest. 

"If  we  can  conceive  it  possible,"  he  once  observed, 
"  that  the  Creator  of  the  world  himself  assumed  the  form 
of  his  creature,  and  lived  in  that  manner  for  a  time  upon 
earth,  this  creature  must  appear  to  us  of  infinite  perfection, 
because  susceptible  of  such  a  combination  with  its  Maker. 
Hence,  in  our  idea  of  man,  there  can  be  no  inconsistency 
with  our  idea  of  God ;  and  if  we  often  feel  a  certain  disa- 
greement with  him  and  remoteness  from  him,  it  is  but  the 
more  on  that  account  our  duty,  not  like  advocates  of  the 
wicked  Spirit,  to  keep  our  eyes  continually  upon  the  naked- 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  359 

ness  and  weakness  of  our  nature,  but  rather  to  seek  out  every 
property  and  beauty  by  which  our  pretension  to  a  similarity 
with  the  Divinity  may  be  made  good." 

I  smiled,  and  answered,  "  Do  not  make  me  blush,  dear 
uncle,  by  your  complaisance  in  talking  in  my  language ! 
What  you  have  to  say  is  of  such  importance  to  me,  that  I 
wish  to  hear  it  in  your  own  most  peculiar  style ;  and  then 
what  parts  of  it  I  cannot  quite  appropriate  I  will  endeavor 
to  translate." 

"  I  may  continue,"  he  replied,  "  in  my  own  most  peculiar 
way,  without  any  alteration  of  my  tone.  Man's  highest 
merit  always  is,  as  much  as  possible  to  rule  external  circum- 
stances, and  as  little  as  possible  to  let  himself  be  ruled  by 
them.  Life  lies  before  us,  as  a  huge  quarry  lies  before  the 
architect:  he  deserves  not  the  name  of  architect,  except 
when,  out  of  this  fortuitous  mass,  he  can  combine,  with  the 
greatest  economy  and  fitness  and  durability,  some  form, 
the  pattern  of  which  originated  in  his  spirit.  All  things 
without  us,  nay,  I  may  add,  all  things  on  us,  are  mere  ele- 
ments ;  but  deep  within  us  lies  the  creative  force,  which  out 
of  these  can  produce  what  they  were  meant  to  be,  and 
which  leaves  us  neither  sleep  nor  rest,  till,  in  one  way  or 
another,  without  us  or  on  us,  that  same  have  been  produced. 
You,  my  dear  niece,  have,  it  may  be,  chosen  the  better 
part ;  •  you  have  striven  to  bring  your  moral  being,  your 
earnest,  lovely  nature,  into  accordance  with  itself  and  with 
the  Highest :  but  neither  ought  we  to  be  blamed,  when  we 
strive  to  get  acquainted  with  the  sentient  man  in  all  his  com- 
prehensiveness, and  to  bring  about  an  active  harmony  among 
his  powers." 

By  such  discoursing,  we  in  time  grew  more  familiar ;  and 
I  begged  of  him  to  speak  with  me  as  with  himself,  omitting 
every  sort  of  condescension.  "  Do  not  think,"  replied  my 
uncle,  "that  I  flatter  you  when  I  commend  your  mode  of 
thinking  and  acting.  I  reverence  the  individual  who  under- 
stands distinctly  what  it  is  he  wishes ;  who  unweariedly  ad- 
vances, who  knows  the  means  conducive  to  his  object,  and 
can  seize  and  use  them.  How  far  his  object  may  be  great 
or  little,  may  merit  praise  or  censure,  is  the  next  considera- 
tion with  me.  Believe  me,  love,  most  part  of  all  the  misery 
and  mischief,  of  all  that  is  denominated  evil  in  the  world, 
arises  from  the  fact,  that  men  are  too  remiss  to  get  a  proper 
knowledge  of  their  aims,  and,  when  they  do  know  them,  to 
work  intensely  in  attaining  them.  They  seem  to  me  like 


360  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

people  who  have  taken  up  a  notion  that  they  must  and  will 
erect  a  tower,  and  who  yet  expend  on  the  foundation  not 
more  stones  and  labor  than  would  be  sufficient  for  a  hut.  3  f 
you,  my  friend,  whose  highest  want  it  was  to  perfect  and 
unfold  your  moral  nature,  had,  instead  of  those  bold  and 
noble  sacrifices,  merely  trimmed  between  your  duties  to 
yourself  and  to  your  family,  your  bridegroom,  or  perhaps 
your  husband,  you  must  have  lived  in  constant  contradic- 
tion with  your  feelings,  and  never  could  have  had  a  peace- 
ful moment." 

"  You  employ  the  word  sacrifice,"  I  answered  here :  "  and 
I  have  often  thought,  that  to  a  higher  purpose,  as  to  a 
divinity,  we  offer  up  by  way  of  sacrifice  a  thing  of  smaller 
value ;  feeling  like  persons  who  should  willingly  and  gladly 
bring  a  favorite  lamb  to  the  altar  for  the  health  of  a  ba- 
loved  father." 

"  Whatever  it  may  be,"  said  he,  "  reason  or  feeling,  that 
commands  us  to  give  up  the  one  thing  for  the  other,  to 
choose  the  one  before  the  other,  decision  and  perseverance 
are,  in  my  opinion,  the  noblest  qualities  of  man.  You 
cannot  have  the  ware  and  the  money  both  at  the  same  timo ; 
and  he  who  always  hankers  for  the  ware  without  having 
heart  to  give  the  money  for  it,  is  no  better  off  than  he  who 
repents  him  of  the  purchase  when  the  ware  is  in  his  hands. 
But  I  am  far  from  blaming  men  on  this  account :  it  is  not 
they  that  are  to  blame  ;  it  is  the  difficult,  entangled  situation 
they  are  in :  they  know  not  how  to  guide  themselves  in  its 
perplexities.  Thus,  for  instance,  you  will  on  the  average 
find  fewer  bad  economists  in  the  country  than  in  towns,  and 
fewer  again  in  small  towns  than  in  great ;  and  why  ?  Man 
is  intended  for  a  limited  condition  ;  objects  that  are  simple, 
near,  determinate,  he  comprehends,  and  he  becomes  accus- 
tomed to  employ  such  means  as  are  at  hand ;  but,  on  enter- 
ing a  wider  field,  he  now  knows  neither  what  he  would  nor 
what  he  should ;  and  it  amounts  to  quite  the  same,  whether 
his  attention  is  distracted  by  the  multitude  of  objects,  or  is 
overpowered  by  their  magnitude  and  dignity.  It  is  always 
a  misfortune  for  him  when  he  is  induced  to  struggle  after 
any  thing  with  which  he  cannot  connect  himself  by  some 
regular  exertion  of  his  powers. 

"Certainly,"  pursued  he,  "without  earnestness  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done  in  life ;  yet,  among  the  people  whom  AFC 
name  cultivated  men,  little  earnestness  is  to  be  found :  in 
labors  and  employments,  in  arts,  nay,  even  in  recreations, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  361 

they  proceed,  if  I  may  say  so,  with  a  sort  of  self-defence ; 
they  live,  as  they  read  a  heap  of  newspapers,  only  to  have 
done  with  it ;  they  remind  one  of  that  young  Englishman  at 
Rome,  who  said,  with  a  contented  air  one  evening  in  some 
company,  that  to-day  he  had  despatched  six  churches  and 
two  galleries.  They  wish  to  know  and  learn  a  multitude  of 
things,  and  precisely  those  they  have  the  least  concern  with ; 
and  they  never  see  that  hunger  is  not  stilled  by  snapping  at 
the  air.  When  I  become  acquainted  with  a  man,  my  first 
inquiry  is,  With  what  does  he  employ  himself,  and  how,  and 
with  what  degree  of  perseverance?  The  answer  regulates 
the  interest  I  shall  take  in  him  for  life." 

"My  dear  uncle,"  I  replied,  "you  are,  perhaps,  too  rigor- 
ous: you  perhaps  withdraw  your  helping  hand  from  here 
and  there  a  worthy  man  to  whom  you  might  be  useful." 

"Can  it  be  imputed  as  a  fault,"  said  he,  "to  one  who 
has  so  long  and  vainly  labored  on  them  and  about  them  ? 
How  much  we  have  to  suffer  in  our  youth  from  men  who 
think  they  are  inviting  us  to  a  delightful  pleasure-party, 
when  they  undertake  to  introduce  us  to  the  Danaides  or 
Sisyphus  !  Heaven  be  praised  !  I  have  rid  myself  of  these 
people :  if  one  of  them  unfortunately  comes  within  my 
sphere,  I  forthwith,  in  the  politest  manner,  compliment  him 
out  again.  It  is  from  such  persons  that  you  hear  the  bitter- 
est complaints  about  the  miserable  course  of  things,  the 
aridity  of  science,  the  levity  of  artists,  the  emptiness  of 
poets,  and  much  more  of  that  sort.  They  do  not  recollect 
that  they,  and  the  many  like  them,  are  the  very  persons  who 
would  never  read  a  book  which  had  been  written  just  as 
they  require  it ;  that  true  poetry  is  alien  to  them ;  that  even 
an  excellent  work  of  art  can  never  gain  their  approbation 
except  by  means  of  prejudice.  But  let  us  now  break  off, 
for  this  is  not  the  time  to  rail  or  to  complain." 

He  directed  my  attention  to  the  different  pictures  hanging 
on  the  wall :  my  eye  dwelt  on  those  whose  look  was  beau- 
tiful or  subject  striking.  This  he  permitted  for  a  while  :  at 
last  he  said,  "  Bestow  a  little  notice  on  the  spirit  manifested 
in  these  other  works.  Good  minds  delight  to  trace  the  fin- 
ger of  the  Deity  in  nature  :  why  not  likewise  pay  some  small 
regard  to  the  hand  of  his  imitator?"  He  then  led  my 
observation  to  some  unobtrusive  figures ;  endeavoring  to 
make  me  understand  that  it  was  the  history  of  art  alone 
which  could  give  us  an  idea  of  the  worth  and  dignity  of  any 
work  of  art ;  that  we  should  know  the  weary  steps  of  mere 


362  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

handicraft  and  mechanism,  over  which  the  man  of  talents 
has  struggled  in  the  course  of  centuries,  before  we  can  con- 
ceive how  it  is  possible  for  the  man  of  genius  to  move  with 
airy  freedom  on  the  pinnacle  whose  very  aspect  makes  us 
giddy. 

With  this  view  he  had  formed  a  beautiful  series  of  works  •, 
and,  whilst  he  explained  it,  I  could  not  help  conceiving  that 
I  saw  before  me  a  similitude  of  moral  culture.  When  I 
expressed  my  thought  to  him,  he  answered,  "  You  are  alto- 
gether right ;  and  we  see  from  this,  that  those  do  not  act 
well,  who,  in  a  solitary,  exclusive  manner,  follow  moral  cul- 
tivation by  itself.  On  the  contrary,  it  will  be  found,  that  he 
whose  spirit  strives  for  a  development  of  that  kind,  has 
likewise  every  reason,  at  the  same  time,  to  improve  his  finer 
sentient  powers  ;  that  so  he  may  not  run  the  risk  of  sinking 
from  his  moral  height  by  giving  way  to  the  enticements 
of  a  lawless  fancy,  and  degrading  his  moral  nature  by  allow- 
ing it  to  take  delight  in  tasteless  baubles,  if  not  in  some- 
thing worse." 

I  did  not  suspect  him  of  levelling  at  me  ;  but  I  felt  myself 
struck,  when  I  reflected  how  many  insipidities  there  might 
be  in  the  songs  that  used  to  edify  me,  and  how  little  favor 
the  figures  which  had  joined  themselves  to  my  religious  ideas 
would  have  found  in  the  eyes  of  my  uncle. 

Philo,  in  the  mean  time,  had  frequently  been  busied  in  the 
library :  he  now  took  me  along  with  him.  We  admired  the 
selection,  as  well  as  the  multitude,  of  books.  They  had  been 
collected  on  my  uncle's  general  principle :  there  were  none 
to  be  found  among  them  but  such  as  either  lead  to  correct 
knowledge,  or  teach  right  arrangement ;  such  as  either  give 
us  fit  materials,  or  further  the  concordance  of  our  spirit. 

In  the  course  of  my  life  I  had  read  very  largely ;  in  cer- 
tain branches,  there  was  almost  no  work  unknown  to  me : 
the  more  pleasant  was  it  here  to  speak  about  the  general 
survey  of  the  whole ;  to  mark  deficiencies,  and  not,  as  else- 
where, see  nothing  but  a  hampered  confusion  or  a  boundless 
expansion. 

Here,  too,  we  became  acquainted  with  a  very  interesting, 
quiet  man.  He  was  a  physician  and  a  naturalist:  he  seemed 
rather  one  of  the  Penates  than  of  the  inmates.  He  showed 
us  the  museum,  which,  like  the  library,  was  fixed  in  glass 
cases  to  the  walls  of  the  chambers,  adorning  and  ennobling 
the  space,  which  it  did  not  crowd.  On  this  occasion  I  re- 
called with  joy  the  days  of  my  youth,  and  showed  my  father 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  363 

many  of  the  things  he  had  been  wont  to  lay  upon  .the  sick- 
bed of  his  little  child,  just  opening  its  little  eyes  to  look  into 
the  world  then.  At  the  same  time  the  physician,  in  our 
present  and  following  conversations,  did  not  scruple  to  avow 
how  near  he  approximated  to  me  in  respect  of  my  religious 
sentiments :  he  warmly  praised  my  uncle  for  his  tolerance, 
and  his  esteem  of  all  that  testified  or  forwarded  the  worth 
and  unity  of  human  nature ;  admitting,  also,  that  he  called 
for  a  similar  return  from  others,  and  would  shun  and  con- 
demn nothing  else  so  heartily  as  individual  pretension  and 
narrow  exclusiveness. 

Since  the  nuptials  of  my  sister,  joy  had  sparkled  in  the 
eyes  of  our  uncle  :  he  often  spoke  with  me  of  what  he  meant 
to  do  for  her  and  for  her  children.  He  had  several  fine  es- 
tates :  he  managed  them  himself,  and  hoped  to  leave  them  in 
the  best  condition  to  his  nephews.  Regarding  the  small 
estate  where  we  at  present  were,  he  appeared  to  entertain 
peculiar  thoughts.  "  I  will  leave  it  to  none,"  said  he,  "  but 
to  a  person  who  can  understand  and  value  and  enjoy  what  it 
contains,  and  who  feels  how  loudly  every  man  of  wealth  and 
rank,  especially  in  Germany,  is  called  on  to  exhibit  some- 
thing like  a  model  to  others." 

Most  of  his  guests  were  now  gone  :  we,  too,  were  making 
ready  for  departure,  thinking  we  had  seen  the  final  scene  of 
this  solemnity,  when  his  attention  in  affording  us  some  dig- 
nified enjoyment  produced  a  new  surprise.  We  had  men- 
tioned to  him  the  delight  which  the  chorus  of  voices,  suddenly 
commencing  without  accompaniment  of  any  instrument,  had 
given  us,  at  my  sister's  marriage.  We  hinted,  at  the  same 
time,  how  pleasant  it  would  be  were  such  a  thing  repeated  ; 
but  he  seemed  to  pay  no  heed  to  us.  The  livelier  was  our 
surprise,  when  he  said,  one  evening,  "  The  music  of  the 
dance  has  died  away ;  our  transitory,  youthful  friends  have 
left  us  ;  the  happy  pair  themselves  have  a  more  serious  look 
than  they  had  some  days  ago.  To  part  at  such  a  time,  when, 
perhaps,  we  shall  never  meet  again,  certainly  never  without 
changes,  exalts  us  to  a  solemn  mood,  which  I  know  not  how 
to  entertain  more  nobly  than  by  the  music  you  were  lately 
signifying  a  desire  to  have  repeated." 

The  chorus,  which  had  in  the  mean  while  gathered  strength, 
and  by  secret  practice  more  expertness,  was  accordingly 
made  to  sing  to  us  a  series  of  four  and  of  eight  voiced  melo- 
dies, which,  if  I  may  say  so,  gave  a  real  foretaste  of  bliss. 
Till  then  I  had  only  known  the  pious  mode  of  singing,  as 


364  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

good  souls  practise  it,  frequently  with  hoarse  pipes,  imagin- 
ing, like  wild  birds,  that  they  are  praising  God,  while  they 
procure  a  pleasant  feeling  to  themselves.  Or,  perhaps,  I 
had  listened  to  the  vain  music  of  concerts,  in  which  you  are 
at  best  invited  to  admire  the  talent  of  the  singer,  and  very 
seldom  have  even  a  transient  enjoyment.  Now,  however,  I 
was  listening  to  music,  which,  as  it  originated  in  the  deepest 
feeling  of  the  most  accomplished  human  beings,  was,  by 
suitable  and  practised  organs  in  harmonious  unity,  made 
again  to  address  the  deepest  and  best  feelings  of  man,  and 
to  impress  him  at  that  moment  with  a  lively  sense  of  his  like- 
ness to  the  Deity.  They  were  all  devotional  songs,  in  the 
Latin  language :  they  sat  like  jewels  in  the  golden  ring  of  a 
polished  intellectual  conversation ;  and,  without  pretending 
to  edify,  they  elevated  me  and  made  me  happy  in  the  most 
spiritual  manner. 

At  our  departure  he  presented  all  of  us  with  handsome 
gifts.  To  me  he  gave  the  cross  of  my  order,  more  beauti- 
fully and  artfully  worked  and  enamelled  than  I  had  ever 
seen  it  before.  It  was  hung  upon  a  large  brilliant,  by  which 
also  it  was  fastened  to  the  chain  :  this  he  gave  me,  he  said, 
"  as  the  noblest  stone  in  the  cabinet  of  a  collector." 

My  sister,  with  her  husband,  went  to  their  estates,  the 
rest  of  us  to  our  abodes ;  appearing  to  ourselves,  so  far  as 
outward  circumstances  were  concerned,  to  have  returned  to 
quite  an  every-day  existence.  We  had  been,  as  it  were, 
dropped  from  a  palace  of  the  fairies  down  upon  the  common 
earth,  and  were  again  obliged  to  help  ourselves  as  we  best 
could. 

The  singular  experiences  which  this  new  circle  had  afforded 
left  a  fine  impression  on  my  mind.  This,  however,  did  not 
long  continue  in  its  first  vivacity  :  though  my  uncle  tried  to 
nourish  and  renew  it  by  sending  me  certain  of  his  best  and 
most  pleasing  works  of  art;  changing  them,  from  time  to 
time,  with  others  which  I  had  not  seen. 

I  had  been  so  much  accustomed  to  be  busied  with  myself, 
in  regulating  the  concerns  of  my  heart  and  temper,  and  con- 
versing on  these  matters  with  persons  of  a  like  mind,  that  I 
could  not  long  study  any  work  of  art  attentively  without  be- 
ing turned  by  it  back  upon  myself.  I  was  used  to  look  at  a 
picture  or  copper-plate  merely  as  at  the  letters  of  a  book. 
Fine  printing  pleases  well,  but  who  would  read  a  book  for 
the  beauty  of  the  printing?  In  like  manner  I  required  of 
each  pictorial  form  that  it  should  tell  me  something,  should 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  365 

instruct,  affect,  improve  me  ;  and,  after  all  my  uncle's  letters 
to  expound  his  works  of  art,  say  what  he  would,  I  continued 
in  my  former  humor. 

Yet  not  only  my  peculiar  disposition,  but  external  inci- 
dents and  changes  in  our  family,  still  farther  drew  me  back 
from  contemplations  of  that  nature ;  nay,  for  some  time  even 
from  myself.  I  had  to  suffer  and  to  do  more  than  my  slen- 
der strength  seemed  fit  for. 

My  maiden  sister  had,  till  now,  been  as  a  right  arm  to  me. 
Healthy,  strong,  unspeakably  good-natured,  she  had  managed 
all  the  housekeeping ;  I  myself  being  busied  with  the  personal 
nursing  of  our  aged  father.  She  was  seized  with  a  catarrh, 
which  changed  to  a  disorder  of  the  lungs  :  in  three  weeks  she 
was  lying  in  her  coffin.  Her  death  inflicted  wounds  on  me, 
the  scars  of  which  I  am  not  yet  willing  to  examine. 

I  was  lying  sick  before  they  buried  her :  the  old  ailment  in 
my  breast  appeared  to  be  awakening ;  I  coughed  with  vio- 
lence, and  was  so  hoarse  I  could  not  speak  beyond  a  whisper. 

My  married  sister,  out  of  fright  and  grief,  was  brought  to 
bed  before  her  time.  Our  old  father  thought  he  was  about 
to  lose  at  once  his  children  and  the  hope  of  their  posterity  ; 
his  natural  tears  increased  my  sorrow :  I  prayed  to  God  that 
he  would  give  me  back  a  sufferable  state  of  health.  I  asked 
him  but  to  spare  my  life  till  my  father  should  die.  I  recov- 
ered :  I  was  what  I  reckoned  well,  being  able  to  discharge 
my  duties,  though  with  pain. 

My  sister  was  again  with  child.  Many  cares,  which  in 
such  cases  are  committed  to  the  mother,  in  the  present  in- 
stance fell  to  me.  She  was  not  altogether  happy  with  her 
husband ;  this  was  to  be  hidden  from  our  father :  I  was 
often  made  judge  of  their  disputes,  in  which  I  could  decide 
with  the  greater  safety,  as  my  brother  trusted  in  me ;  and  the 
two  were  really  worthy  persons,  only  each  of  them,  instead 
of  humoring,  endeavored  to  convince,  the  other,  and,  out  of 
eagerness  to  live  in  constant  harmony,  never  could  agree.  I 
now  learned  to  mingle  seriously  in  worldly  matters,  and  to 
practise  what  of  old  I  had  but  sung. 

My  sister  bore  a  son :  the  frailty  of  my  father  did  not 
hinder  him  from  travelling  to  her.  The  sight  of  the  child 
exceedingly  enlivened  and  cheered  him :  at  the  christening, 
contrary  to  his  custom,  he  seemed  as  if  inspired ;  nay,  I 
might  say  like  a  Genius  with  two  faces.  With  the  one,  he 
looked  joyfully  forward  to  those  regions  which  he  soon  hoped 
to  enter ;  with-  the  other,  to  the  new,  hopeful,  earthly  life 


366  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

which  had  arisen  in  the  boy  descended  from  him.  On  our 
journey  home  he  never  wearied  talking  to  me  of  the  child,  its 
form,  its  health,  and  his  wish  that  the  gifts  of  this  new  deni- 
zen of  earth  might  be  rightly  cultivated.  His  reflections  on 
the  subject  lasted  when  we  had  arrived  at  home :  it  was  not 
till  some  days  afterwards  that  I  observed  a  kind  of  fever  in 
him,  which  displayed  itself,  without  shivering,  in  a  sort  of 
languid  heat  commencing  after  dinner.  He  did  not  yield, 
however :  he  went  out  as  usual  in  the  mornings,  faithfully 
attending  to  the  duties  of  his  office,  till  at  last  continuous 
serious  symptoms  kept  him  within  doors. 

I  never  shall  forget  with  what  distinctness,  clearness,  and 
repose  of  mind  he  settled  in  the  greatest  order  the  concerns 
of  his  house,  nay,  the  arrangements  of  his  funeral,  as  he 
would  have  done  a  business  of  some  other  person. 

With  a  cheerfulness  which  he  never  used  to  show,  and 
which  now  mounted  to  a  lively  joy,  he  said  to  me,  4k  Where 
is  the  fear  of  death  which  I  once  felt?  Shall  I  shrink  at 
departing  ?  I  have  a  gracious  God  ;  the  grave  awakens  no 
terror  in  me  ;  I  have  an  eternal  life. ' ' 

To  recall  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  which  shortly 
followed,  forms  one  of  the  most  pleasing  entertainments  of 
my  solitude :  the  visible  workings  of  a  higher  Power  in  that 
solemn  time,  no  one  shall  ever  argue  from  me. 

The  death  of  my  beloved  father  altogether  changed  my 
mode  of  life.  From  the  strictest  obedience,  the  narrowest 
confinement,  I  passed  at  once  into  the  greatest  freedom :  I 
enjoyed  it  like  a  sort  of  food  from  which  one  has  long  ab- 
stained. Formerly  I  very  seldom  spent  two  hours  from  home  : 
now  I  very  seldom  lived  a  day  there.  My  friends,  whom  I 
had  been  allowed  to  visit  only  by  hurried  snatches,  wished 
now  to  have  my  company  without  interruption,  as  I  did  to 
have  theirs.  I  was  often  asked  to  dinner:  at  walks  and 
pleasure-jaunts  I  never  failed.  But,  when  once  the  circle 
had  been  fairly  run,  I  saw  that  the  invaluable  happiness  of 
liberty  consisted,  not  in  doing  what  one  pleases  and  what 
circumstances  may  invite  to,  but  in  being  able,  without  hin- 
derance  or  restraint,  to  do  in  the  direct  way  what  one  regards 
as  right  and  proper ;  and,  in  this  instance,  I  was  old  enough 
to  reach  a  valuable  truth,  without  smarting  for  my  ignorance. 

One  pleasure  I  could  not  deny  myself :  it  was,  as  soon  as 
might  be,  to  renew  and  strengthen  my  connection  with  the 
Herrnhut  Brethren.  I  hastened,  accordingly,  to  visit  one 
of  their  establishments  at  no  great  distance  ;>but  here  I  by 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  367 

no  means  found  what  I  had  been  anticipating.  I  was  frank 
enough  to  signify  my  disappointment,  which  they  tried  to 
soften  by  alleging  that  the  present  settlement  was  nothing 
to  a  full  and  fitly  organized  community.  This  I  did  not  take 
upon  me  to  deny ;  yet,  in  my  thought,  the  genuine  spirit  of 
the  matter  might  have  displayed  itself  in  a  small  body  as  well 
as  in  a  great  one. 

One  of  their  bishops,  who  was  present,  a  personal  disciple 
of  the  count,  took  considerable  pains  with  me.  He  spoke 
English  perfectly  ;  and  as  I,  too,  understood  a  little  of  it,  he 
reckoned  this  a  token  that  we  both  belonged  to  one  class.  I, 
however,  reckoned  nothing  of  the  kind :  his  conversation  did 
not  in  the  least  satisfy  me.  He  had  been  a  cutler ;  was  a  native 
of  Moravia  ;  his  mode  of  thought  still  savored  of  the  artisan. 

With  Herr  Von  L ,  who  had  been  a  major  in  the  French 

service,  I  got  upon  a  better  footing :  yet  I  could  never  bring 
myself  to  the  submissiveness  he  showed  to  his  superiors ; 
nay,  I  felt  as  if  you  had  given  me  a  box  on  the  ear,  when  I 
saw  the  major's  wife,  and  other  women  more  or  less  like 
ladies,  take  the  bishop's  hand  and  kiss  it.  Meanwhile  a 
journey  into  Holland  was  proposed  ;  which,  however,  doubt- 
less for  my  good,  did  not  take  place. 

My  sister  had  been  delivered  of  a  daughter ;  and  now  it 
was  the  turn  of  us  women  to  exult,  and  consider  how  the 
little  creature  should  be  bred  like  one  of  us.  The  husband, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  not  so  satisfied,  when  in  the  follow- 
ing year  another  daughter  saw  the  light :  with  his  large 
estates,  he  wanted  to  have  bo}rs  about  him,  who  in  future 
might  assist  him  in  his  management. 

My  health  was  feeble :  I  kept  myself  in  peace,  and,  by  a 
quiet  mode  of  life,  in  tolerable  equilibrium.  I  was  not  afraid 
of  death  ;  nay,  I  wished  to  die  :  yet  I  secretly  perceived  that 
God  was  granting  time  for  me  to  prove  my  soul,  and  to 
advance  still  nearer  to  himself.  In  my  many  sleepless  nights, 
especially,  I  have  at  times  felt  something  which  I  cannot 
undertake  to  describe. 

It  was  as  if  my  soul  were  thinking  separately  from  the  body  : 
she  looked  upon  the  body  as  a  foreign  substance,  as  we  look 
upon  a  garment.  She  pictured  with  extreme  vivacity  events 
and  times  long  past,  and  felt,  by  means  of  this,  events  that 
were  to  follow.  Those  times  are  all  gone  by ;  what  follows 
likewise  will  go  by ;  the  body,  too,  will  fall  to  pieces  like  a 
vesture  ;  but  I,  the  well-known  I,  I  am. 

The  thought  is  great,  exalted,  and  consoling ;  yqt  an  ex- 


368  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

cellent  friend,  with  whom  I  every  day  became  more  intimate, 
instructed  me  to  dwell  on  it  as  little  as  I  could.  This  was  the 
physician  whom  1  met  in  my  uncle's  house,  and  who  had  since 
accurately  informed  himself  about  the  temper  of  my  body  and 
my  spirit.  He  showed  me  how  much  these  feelings,  when 
we  cherish  them  within  us  independently  of  outward  objects, 
tend,  as  it  were,  to  excavate  us,  and  to  undermine  the  whole 
foundation  of  our  being.  "  To  be  active,"  he  would  say, 
"  is  the  primary  vocation  of  man  :  all  the  intervals  in  which 
he  is  obliged  to  rest,  he  should  employ  in  gaining  clearer 
knowledge  of  external  things  ;  for  this  will  in  its  turn  facili- 
tate activity." 

This  friend  was  acquainted  with  my  custom  of  looking  on 
my  body  as  an  outward  object :  he  knew  also  that  I  pretty 
well  understood  my  constitution,  my  disorder,  and  the  medi- 
cines of  use  for  it ;  nay,  that,  by  continual  sufferings  of  my 
own  or  other  people's,  I  had  really  grown  a  kind  of  half- 
doctor  :  he  now  caiTied  forward  my  attention  from  the  human 
body,  and  the  drugs  which  act  upon  it,  to  the  kindred  objects 
of  creation ;  he  led  me  up  and  down  as  in  the  paradise  of 
the  first  man  ;  only,  if  I  may  continue  my  comparison,  allow- 
ing me  to  trace,  in  dim  remoteness,  the  Creator  walking  in 
the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  evening. 

How  gladly  did  I  now  see  God  in  nature,  when  I  bore  him 
with  such  certainty  within  my  heart !  How  interesting  to  me 
was  his  handiwork !  how  thankful  did  I  feel  that  he  had 
pleased  to  quicken  me  with  the  breath  of  his  mouth ! 

We  again  had  hopes  that  my  sister  would  present  us  with 
a  boy  :  her  husband  waited  anxiously  for  that  event,  but  did 
not  live  to  see  it.  He  died  in  consequence  of  an  unlucky 
fall  from  horseback ;  and  my  sister  followed  him,  soon  after 
she  had  brought  into  the  world  a  lovely  boy.  The  four 
orphans  they  had  left  I  could  not  look  at  but  with  sadness. 
So  many  healthy  people  had  been  called  away  before  poor, 
sickly  me ;  might  I  not  also  have  blights  to  witness  among 
these  fair  and  hopeful  blossoms?  I  knew  the  world  suf- 
ficiently to  understand  what  dangers  threaten  the  precarious 
breeding  of  a  child,  especially  a  child  of  quality ;  and  it 
seemed  as  if,  since  the  period  of  my  youth,  these  dangers 
had  increased.  I  felt  that,  weakly  as  I  was,  I  could  not  be 
of  much,  perhaps  of  any,  service  to  the  little  ones ;  and  I 
rejoiced  the  more  on  finding  that  my  uncle,  as  indeed  might 
have  been  looked  for,  had  determined  to  devote  his  whole 
attention  to  the  education  of  these  amiable  creatures.  And 


MINISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  369 

this  they  doubtless  merited  in  every  sense  :  they  were  hand- 
some ;  and,  with  great  diversities,  all  promised  to  be  well- 
conditioned,  reasonable  persons. 

Since  my  worthy  doctor  had  suggested  it,  I  loved  to  trace 
out  family  likenesses  among  our  relatives  and  children.  My 
father  had  carefully  preserved  the  portraits  of  his  ancestors, 
and  got  his  own  and  those  of  his  descendants  drawn  by  toler- 
able masters ;  nor  had  my  mother  and  her  people  been  for- 
gotten. We  accurately  knew  the  characters  of  all  the  family  ; 
and,  as  we  had  frequently  compared  them  with  each  other, 
we  now  endeavored  to  discover  in  the  children  the  same 
peculiarities  outward  or  inward.  My  sister's  eldest  son,  we 
thought,  resembled  his  paternal  grandfather,  of  whom  there 
was  a  fine  youthful  picture  in  my  uncle's  collection  :  he  had 
been  a  brave  soldier ;  and  in  this  point,  too,  the  boy  took  after 
him,  liking  arms  above  all  things,  and  busying  himself  with 
them  whenever  he  paid  me  a  visit.  For  my  father  had  left 
a  very  pretty  armory ;  and  the  boy  got  no  rest  till  I  had 
given  him  a  pair  of  pistols  and  a  fowling-piece,  and  he  had 
learned  the  proper  way  of  using  them.  At  the  same  time, 
in  his  conduct  or  bearing,  there  was  nothing  like  rudeness  : 
far  from  that,  he  was  always  meek  and  sensible. 

The  eldest  daughter  had  attracted  my  especial  love ;  of 
which,  perhaps,  the  reason  was,  that  she  resembled  me,  and  of 
all  the  four  seemed  to  like  me  best.  But  I  may  well  admit, 
that,  the  more  closely  I  observed  her  as  she  grew,  the  more 
she  shamed  me  :  I  could  not  look  on  her  without  a  sentiment 
of  admiration,  nay,  I  may  almost  say,  of  reverence.  You 
would  scarcely  have  seen  a  nobler  form,  a  more  peaceful 
spirit,  an  activity  so  equable  and  universal.  No  moment  of 
her  life  was  she  unoccupied,  and  every  occupation  in  her 
hands  became  dignified.  All  seemed  indifferent  to  her,  so 
that  she  could  but  accomplish  what  was  proper  in  the  place 
and  time  ;  and,  in  the  same  manner,  she  could  patiently  con- 
tinue unemployed,  when  there  was  nothing  to  be  done.  This 
activity  without  need  of  occupation  I  have  never  elsewhere 
met  with.  In  particular,  her  conduct  to  the  suffering  and 
destitute  was,  from  her  earliest  youth,  inimitable.  For  my 
part,  I  freely  confess  I  never  had  the  gift  to  make  a  business 
of  beneficence :  I  was  not  niggardly  to  the  poor ;  nay,  I 
often  gave  too  largely  for  my  means  ;  yet  this  was  little  more 
than  buying  myself  off :  and  a  person  needed  to  be  made  for 
me,  if  I  was  to  bestow  attention  on  him.  Directly  the  re- 
verse was  the  conduct  of  my  niece.  I  never  saw  her  give  a 


370  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

poor  man  money :  whatever  she  obtained  from  me  for  this  pur- 
pose, she  failed  not  in  the  first  place  to  change  for  some  neces- 
sary article.  Never  did  she  seem  more  lovely  in  my  eyes, 
than  when  rummaging  my  clothes-presses :  she  was  always 
sure  to  light  on  something  which  I  did  not  wear  and  did  not 
need  ;  to  sew  these  old  cast-off  articles  together,  and  put  them 
on  some  ragged  child,  she  thought  her  highest  happiness. 

Her  sister's  turn  of  mind  appeared  already  different :  she 
had  much  of  her  mother ;  she  promised  to  become  very  ele- 
gant and  beautiful,  and  she  now  bids  fair  to  keep  her  prom- 
ise. She  is  greatly  taken  up  with  her  exterior:  from  her 
earliest  years  she  could  decorate  and  carry  herself  in  a  way 
that  struck  you.  I  still  remember  with  what  ecstasy,  when 
quite  a  little  creature,  she  saw  herself  in  a  mirror,  decked  in 
certain  precious  pearls,  once  my  mother's,  which  she  had  by 
chance  discovered,  and  made  me  try  upon  her. 

Reflecting  on  these  diverse  inclinations,  it  was  pleasant 
for  me  to  consider  how  my  property  would,  after  my  decease, 
be  shared  among  them,  and  again  called  into  use.  I  saw  the 
fowling-pieces  of  my  father  once  more  travelling  round  the 
fields  on  my  nephew's  shoulder,  and  birds  once  more  falling 
from  his  hunting-pouch :  I  saw  my  whole  wardrobe  issuing 
from  the  church,  at  Easter  Confirmation,  on  the  persons  of 
tidy  little  girls  ;  while  the  best  pieces  of  it  were  employed  to 
decorate  some  virtuous  burgher  maiden  on  her  marriage-day. 
In  furnishing  such  children  and  poor  little  girls,  Natalia  had 
a  singular  delight;  though,  as  I  must  here  remark,  she 
showed  not  the  smallest  love,  or,  if  I  may  say  it,  smallest 
need,  of  a  dependence  upon  any  visible  or  invisible  Being, 
such  as  I  had  in  my  youth  so  strongly  manifested. 

When  I  also  thought  that  the  younger  sister,  on  that  same 
day,  would  wear  my  jewels  and  pearls  at  court,  I  could  see 
with  peace  my  possessions,  like  my  body,  given  back  to  the 
elements. 

The  children  waxed  apace :  to  my  comfort,  they  are 
healthy,  handsome,  clever  creatures.  That  my  uncle  keeps 
them  from  me,  I  endure  without  repining :  when  staying  in 
the  neighborhood,  or  even  in  town,  they  seldom  see  me. 

A  singular  personage,  regarded  as  a  French  clergyman, 
though  no  one  rightly  knows  his  history,  has  been  intrusted 
with  the  oversight  of  all  these  children.  He  has  them 
taught  in  various  places :  they  are  put  to  board  now  here, 
now  there. 

At  first  I  could  perceive  no  plan  whatever  in  this  mode  of 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  371 

education  ;  till  at  last  our  doctor  told  me  the  abbe"  had  con- 
vinced my  uncle,  that,  in  order  to  accomplish  any  thing  by 
education,  we  must  first  become  acquainted  with  the  pupil's 
tendencies  and  wishes  ;  that,  these  once  ascertained,  he  ought 
to  be  transported  to  a  situation  where  he  may,  as  speedily  as 
possible,  content  the  former  and  attain  the  latter,  and  so,  if 
he  have  been  mistaken,  may  still  in  time  perceive  his  error, 
and  at  last,  having  found  what  suits  him,  may  hold  the  faster 
by  it,  may  the  more  diligently  fashion  himself  according  to  it. 
I  wish  this  strange  experiment  may  prosper :  with  such  excel- 
lent natures  it  is,  perhaps,  possible. 

But  there  is  one  peculiarity  in  these  instructors,  which  I 
never  shall  approve  of :  they  study  to  seclude  the  children 
from  whatever  might  awaken  them  to  an  acquaintance  with 
themselves  and  with  the  invisible,  sole,  faithful  Friend.  I 
often  take  it  ill  of  my  uncle,  that,  on  this  account,  he  con- 
siders me  dangerous  for  the  little  ones.  Thus  in  practice 
there  is  no  man  tolerant !  Many  assure  us  that  they  will- 
ingly leave  each  to  take  his  own  way,  yet  all  endeavor  to 
exclude  from  action  every  one  that  does  not  think  as  they  do. 

This  removal  of  the  children  troubles  me  the  more,  the 
more  I  am  convinced  of  the  reality  of  my  belief.  How  can 
it  fail  to  have  a  heavenly  origin,  an  actual  object,  when  in 
practice  it  is  so  effectual?  Is  it  not  by  practice  alone  that 
we  prove  our  own  existence?  Why,  then,  may  we  not,  by  a 
like  mode,  prove  to  ourselves  the  influence  of  that  Power 
who  gives  us  all  good  things? 

That  I  am  still  advancing,  never  retrograding;  that  my 
conduct  is  approximating  more  and  more  to  the  image  I  have 
formed  of  perfection  ;  that  I  every  day  feel  more  facility  in 
doing  what  I  reckon  proper,  even  while  the  weakness  of  my 
body  so  obstructs  me, — can  all  this  be  accounted  for  upon 
the  principles  of  human  nature,  whose  corruption  I  have  so 
clearly  seen  into?  For  me,  at  least,  it  cannot. 

I  scarcely  remember  a  commandment :  to  me  there  is  noth- 
ing that  assumes  the  aspect  of  law ;  it  is  an  impulse  that 
leads  me,  and  guides  me  always  aright.  I  freely  follow  my 
emotions,  and  know  as  little  of  constraint  as  of  repentance. 
God  be  praised  that  I  know  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  such 
happiness,  and  that  I  cannot  think  of  it  without  humility ! 
There  is  no  danger  I  should  ever  become  proud  of  what  I 
myself  can  do  or  can  forbear  to  do :  I  have  seen  too  well 
what  a  monster  might  be  formed  and  nursed  in  every  human 
bosom,  did  not  higher  Influence  restrain  us. 


372  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK   VII. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SPRING  had  come  in  all  its  brilliancy ;  a  storm  that  had 
been  lowering  all  day  went  fiercely  down  upon  the  hills ;  the 
rain  drew  back  into  the  country ;  the  sun  came  forth  in  all 
its  splendor,  and  upon  the  dark  vapor  rose  the  lordly  rain- 
bow. Wilhelm  was  riding  towards  it :  the  sight  made  him 
sad.  "Ah!  "  said  he  within  himself,  "must  it  be  that  the 
fairest  hues  of  life  appear  to  us  only  on  a  ground  of  black  ? 
And  must  drops  fall,  if  we  are  to  be  enraptured  ?  A  bright 
day  is  like  a  dull  da}*,  if  we  look  at  it  unmoved ;  and  what 
can  move  us  but  some  silent  hope  that  the  inborn  inclination 
of  our  soul  shall  not  always  be  without  an  object?  The 
recital  of  a  noble  action  moves  us ;  the  sight  of  every  thing 
harmonious  moves  us :  we  feel  then  as  if  we  were  not 
altogether  in  a  foreign  land ;  we  fancy  we  are  nearer  the 
home  towards  which  our  best  and  inmost  wishes  impatiently 
strive." 

Meanwhile  a  pedestrian  overtook  him,  and,  walking  with  a 
stout  step  by  the  side  of  the  horse,  began  to  keep  him  com- 
pany. After  a  few  common  words,  he  looked  at  the  rider, 
and  said,  "  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  must  have  akeady  seen 
you  somewhere." 

"I,  too,  remember  you,"  said  Wilhelm:  "had  we  not 
some  time  ago  a  pleasant  sail  together  ?"  —  "Right!"  re- 
plied the  other. 

Wilhelm  looked  at  him  more  narrowly,  then,  after  a 
pause,  observed,  "  I  do  not  know  what  alteration  has  oc- 
curred in  you.  Last  time  we  met,  I  took  you  for  a  Lutheran 
country  clergyman  :  you  now  seem  to  me  more  like  a  Catholic 
priest." 

"  To-day,  at  least,  you  are  not  wrong,"  replied  the  other, 
taking  off  his  hat,  and  showing  him  the  tonsure.  "  Where  is 
your  company  gone?  Did  you  stay  long  with  them?  " 

"  Longer  than  was  good  :  on  looking  back  upon  the  period 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  373 

which  I  passed  in  their  society,  it  seems  as  if  I  looked  into 
an  endless  void  ;  nothing  of  it  has  remained  with  me." 

"Here  you  are  mistaken,"  said  the  stranger:  "every 
thing  that  happens  to  us  leaves  some  trace  behind  it ;  every 
tiling  contributes  imperceptibly  to  form  us.  Yet  often  it  is 
dangerous  to  take  a  strict  account  of  that.  For  either  we 
grow  proud  and  negligent,  or  downcast  and  dispirited  ;  and 
both  are  equally  injurious  in  their  consequences.  The  safe 
plan  is,  always  simply  to  do  the  task  that  lies  nearest  us ; 
and  this  in  the  present  case,"  added  he,  with  a  smile,  "is 
to  hasten  to  our  quarters." 

Wilhelm  asked  how  far  Lothario's  house  was  distant :  the 
stranger  answered  that  it  lay  behind  the  hill.  "  Perhaps  I 
shall  meet  you  there,"  continued  he:  "I  have  merely  a 
small  affair  to  manage  in  the  neighborhood.  Farewell  till 
then!"  And,  with  this,  he  struck  into  a  steep  path  that 
seemed  to  lead  more  speedily  across  the  hill. 

"  Yes,  the  man  is  right !  "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself,  as  he 
proceeded :  "we  should  think  of  what  is  nearest ;  and  for 
me,  at  present,  there  is  nothing  nearer  than  the  mournful 
errand  I  have  come  to  do.  Let  me  see  whether  I  can  still 
repeat  the  speech,  which  is  to  put  that  cruel  man  to  shame." 

He  then  began  reciting  to  himself  this  piece  of  oratory : 
not  a  syllable  was  wanting ;  and  the  more  his  recollection 
served  him,  the  higher  grew  his  passion  and  his  courage. 
Aurelia's  sorrows  and  her  death  were  vividly  present  to  his 
soul. 

"  Spirit  of  my  friend  !  "  exclaimed  he,  "  hover  round  me, 
and,  if  thou  canst,  give  some  sign  to  me  that  thou  art  soft- 
ened, art  appeased !  " 

Amid  such  words  and  meditations,  he  had  reached  the 
summit  of  the  hill ;  and,  near  the  foot  of  its  declivity,  he 
now  beheld  a  curious  building,  which  he  at  once  took  to  be 
Lothario's  dwelling.  An  old,  irregular  castle,  with  several 
turrets  and  peaked  roofs,  appeared  to  have  been  the  primi- 
tive erection  ;  but  the  new  additions  to  it,  placed  near  the 
main  structure,  looked  still  more  irregular.  A  part  of  them 
stood  close  upon  the  main  edifice  :  others,  at  some  distance, 
were  combined  with  it  by  galleries  and  covered  passages. 
All  external  symmetry,  every  shade  of  architectural  beauty, 
appeared  to  have  been  sacrificed  to  the  convenience  of  the 
interior.  No  trace  of  wall  or  trench  was  to  be  seen  ;  none 
of  avenues  or  artificial  gardens.  A  fruit  and  pot-herb  gar- 
den reached  to  the  very  buildings,  and  little  patches  of  a 


374  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

like  sort  showed  themselves  even  in  the  intermediate  spaces. 
A  cheerful  village  lay  at  no  great  distance :  the  fields  and 
gardens  everywhere  appeared  in  the  highest  state  of  cultiva- 
tion. 

Sunk  in  his  own  impassioned  feelings,  Wilhelm  rode  along, 
not  thinking  much  of  what  he  saw  :  he  put  up  his  horse  at  an 
inn,  and,  not  without  emotion,  hastened  to  the  castle. 

An  old  serving-man  received  him  at  the  door,  and  signi- 
fied, with  much  good-nature,  that  to-day  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  get  admission  to  his  lordship,  who  was  occupied  in 
writing  letters,  and  had  already  refused  some  people  that 
had  business  with  him.  Our  friend  became  more  importu- 
nate :  the  old  man  was  at  last  obliged  to  yield,  and  announce 
him.  He  returned,  and  conducted  Wilhelm  to  a  spacious, 
ancient  hall ;  desiring  him  to  be  so  good  as  wait,  since  per- 
haps it  might  be  some  time  before  his  lordship  could  appear. 
Our  friend  walked  up  and  down  unrestfully,  casting  now 
and  then  a  look  at  the  knights  and  dames  whose  ancient 
figures  hung  round  him  on  the  walls.  He  repeated  the  be- 
ginning of  his  speech :  it  seemed,  in  presence  of  these  ruffs 
and  coats  of  mail,  to  answer  even  better.  Every  time  there 
rose  any  stir,  he  put  himself  in  posture  to  receive  his  man 
with  dignity ;  meaning  first  to  hand  him  the  letter,  then 
assail  him  with  the  weapons  of  reproach. 

More  than  once  mistaken,  he  was  now  beginning  to  be 
really  vexed  and  out  of  tune,  when  at  last  a  handsome  man, 
in  boots  and  light  surtout,  stepped  in  from  a  side-door. 
"  What  good  news  have  you  for  me?  "  said  he  to  Wilhelm, 
with  a  friendly  voice:  "pardon  me,  that  I  have  made  you 
wait." 

So  speaking,  he  kept  folding  a  letter  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  Wilhelm,  not  without  embarrassment,  delivered  him 
Aurelia's  paper,  and  replied,  "  I  bring  you  the  last  words 
of  a  friend,  which  you  will  not  read  without  emotion." 

Lothario  took  it,  and  returned  to  his  chamber  with  it; 
where,  as  Wilhelm  through  the  open  door  could  very  easily 
observe,  he  addressed  and  sealed  some  letters  before  open- 
ing Aurelia's.  He  appeared  to  have  perused  it  once  or 
twice  ;  and  Wilhelm,  though  his  feelings  signified  that  the 
pathetic  speech  would  sort  but  ill  with  such  a  cool  recep- 
tion, girded  up  his  mind,  went  forward  to  the  threshold,  and 
was  just  about  beginning  his  address,  when  a  tapestry-door 
of  the  cabinet  opened,  and  the  clergyman  came  in. 

"I  have  got  the  strangest  message  you  can  think  of," 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  375 

cried  Lothario  to  him.  "Pardon  me,"  continued  he,  ad- 
dressing Wilhelm,  "  if  I  am  not  in  a  mood  for  speaking 
further  with  you  at  this  moment.  You  remain  with  us  to- 
night: you,  abbe",  see  the  stranger  properly  attended  to." 

With  these  words,  he  made  his  guest  a  bow :  the  clergy- 
man took  Wilhelm  by  the  hand,  who  followed,  not  without 
reluctance. 

They  walked  along  some  curious  passages  in  silence,  and 
at  last  reached  a  veiy  pretty  chamber.  The  abbe"  led  him 
in,  then  left  him,  making  no  excuses.  Erelong  an  active 
boy  appeared :  he  introduced  himself  as  Wilhelm' s  valet, 
and  brought  up  his  supper.  In  waiting,  he  had  much  to 
say  about  the  order  of  the  house,  about  their  breakfasting 
and  dining,  labors  and  amusements ;  interspersing  many 
things  in  commendation  of  Lothario. 

Pleasant  as  the  boy  was,  Wilhelm  endeavored  to  get  rid 
of  him  as  soon  as  possible.  He  wished  to  be  alone,  for 
he  felt  exceedingly  oppressed  and  straitened  in  his  new 
position.  He  reproached  himself  with  having  executed  his 
intention  so  ill,  with  having  done  his  errand  only  half.  One 
moment,  he  proposed  to  undertake  next  morning  what  he  had 
neglected  to-night ;  the  next,  he  saw,  that,  by  Lothario's 
presence,  he  would  be  attuned  to  quite  a  different  set  of  feel- 
ings. The  house,  too,  where  he  was,  seemed  very  strange  to 
him  :  he  could  not  be  at  home  in  his  position.  Intending  to 
undress,  he  opened  his  travelling-bag :  with  his  night-clothes, 
he  took  out  the  Spirit's  veil,  which  Mignon  had  packed  in 
along  with  them.  The  sight  of  it  increased  the  sadness  of 
his  humor.  "  Flee,  youth !  flee  !  "  cried  he.  "  What  means 
this  mystic  word?  What  am  I  to  flee,  or  whither?  It  were 
better  had  the  Spirit  called  to  me,  Return  to  thyself !  "  He 
cast  his  eyes  on  some  English  copper-plates  hung  round  the 
room  in  frames  ;  most  of  them  he  looked  at  with  indifference  : 
at  last  he  met  with  one,  in  which  a  ship  was  represented 
sinking  in  a  tempest ;  a  father,  with  his  lovely  daughters, 
was  awaiting  death  from  the  intrusive  billows.  One  of  the 
maidens  had  a  kind  of  likeness  to  tlje  Amazon  :  an  inde- 
scribable compassion  seized  our  friend  ;  he  felt  an  irresisti- 
ble necessity  to  vent  his  feelings ;  tears  filled  his  eyes,  he 
wept,  and  did  not  recover  his  composure  till  slumber  over- 
powered him. 

Strange  dreams  arose  upon  him  towards  morning.  He 
was  in  a  garden,  which  in  boyhood  he  had  often  visited:  he 
looked  with  pleasure  at  the  wellrknown  alleys,  hedges,  flower- 


376  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

beds.  Mariana  met  him :  he  spoke  to  her  with  love  and 
tenderness,  recollecting  nothing  of  any  by-gone  grievance. 
Erelong  his  father  joined  them,  in  his  week-day  dress  ;  with 
a  look  of  frankness  that  was  rare  in  him,  he  bade  his  son 
fetch  two  seats  from  the  garden-house ;  then  took  Mariana 
by  the  hand,  and  led  her  into  a  grove. 

Wilhelm  hastened  to  the  garden-house,  but  found  it  alto- 
gether empty :  only  at  a  window  in  the  farther  side  he  saw 
Aurelia  standing.  He  went  forward,  and  addressed  her,  but 
she  turned  not  round  ;  and,  though  he  placed  himself  beside 
her,  he  could  never  see  her  face.  He  looked  out  from  the 
window :  in  an  unknown  garden,  there  were  several  people, 
some  of  whom  he  recognized.  Frau  Meliua,  seated  under  a 
tree,  was  playing  with  a  rose  which  she  had  in  her  hand : 
Laertes  stood  beside  her,  counting  money  from  the  one  hand 
to  the  other.  Mignon  and  Felix  were  lying  on  the  grass, 
the  former  on  her  back,  the  latter  on  his  face.  Philina 
came,  and  clapped  her  hands  above  the  children :  Mignon 
lay  unmoved  ;  Felix  started  up  and  fled.  At  first  he  laughed 
while  running,  as  Philiua  followed ;  but  he  screamed  in 
terror  when  he  saw  the  harper  coming  after  him  with  large, 
slow  steps.  Felix  ran  directly  to  a  pond.  Wilhelm  hastened 
after  him  :  too  late  ;  the  child  was  lying  in  the  water !  Wil- 
helm stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot.  The  fair  Amazon  ap- 
peared on  the  other  side  of  the  pond :  she  stretched  her  right 
hand  towards  the  child,  and  walked  along  the  shore.  The 
child  came  through  the  water,  by  the  course  her  finger 
pointed  to ;  he  followed  her  as  she  went  round ;  at  last 
she  reached  her  hand  to  him,  and  pulled  him  out.  Wilhelm 
had  come  nearer :  the  child  was  all  in  flames ;  fiery  drops 
were  falling  from  his  body.  Wilhelm's  agony  was  greater 
than  ever ;  but  instantly  the  Amazon  took  a  white  veil  from 
her  head,  and  covered  up  the  child  with  it.  The  fire  was  at 
once  quenched.  But,  when  she  lifted  up  the  veil,  two  boys 
sprang  out  from  under  it,  and  frolicsomely  sported  to  and 
fro ;  while  Wilhelm  and  the  Amazon  proceeded  hand  in 
hand  across  the  garden,  and  noticed  in  the  distance  Mari- 
ana and  his  father  walking  in  an  alley,  which  was  formed 
of  lofty  trees,  and  seemed  to  go  quite  round  the  garden. 
He  turned  his  step3  to  them,  and,  with  his  beautiful  attend- 
ant, was  moving  through  the  garden,  when  suddenly  the  fair- 
haired  Friedrich  came  across  their  path,  and  kept  them  back 
with  loud  laughter  and  a  thousand  tricks.  Still,  however, 
they  insisted  on  proceeding ;  and  Friedrich  hastened  off, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  377 

running  towards  Mariana  and  the  father.  These  seemed  to 
flee  before  him ;  he  pursued  the  faster,  till  Wilhelm  saw 
them  hovering  down  the  alley  almost  as  on  wings.  Nature 
and  inclination  called  on  him  to  go  and  help  them,  but  the 
hand  of  the  Amazon  detained  him.  How  gladly  did  he  let 
himself  be  held !  With  this  mingled  feeling  he  awoke,  and 
found  his  chamber  shining  with  the  morning  beams. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OUR  friend  was  called  to  breakfast  by  the  boy :  he  found 
the  abbe"  waiting  in  the  hall ;  Lothario,  it  appeared,  had  rid- 
den out.  The  abbe"  was  not  very  talkative,  but  rather  wore 
a  thoughtful  look:  he  inquired  about  Aurelia's  death,  and 
listened  to  our  friend's  recital  of  it  with  apparent  sympathy. 
"  Ah !  "  cried  he,  "  the  man  that  discerns,  with  lively  clear- 
ness, what  infinite  operations  art  and  nature  must  have  joined 
in  before  a  cultivated  human  being  can  be  formed  ;  the  man 
that  himself  as  much  as  possible  takes  interest  in  the  cul- 
ture of  his  fellow-men,  —  is  ready  to  despair  when  he  sees 
how  lightly  mortals  will  destroy  themselves,  will  blamelessly 
or  blamably  expose  themselves  to  be  destroyed.  When  I 
think  of  these  things,  life  itself  appears  to  me  so  uncertain 
a  gift,  that  I  could  praise  the  man  who  does  not  value  it  be- 
yond its  worth." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  the  door  flew  violently  up : 
a  young  lady  came  rushing  in  ;  she  pushed  away  the  old  ser- 
vant, who  attempted  to  restrain  her.  She  made  right  to  the 
abbe\  and  seized  him  by  the  arm  :  her  tears  and  sobs  would 
hardly  let  her  speak  these  words:  "Where  is  he?  Where 
have  you  put  him  ?  'Tis  a  frightful  treachery  !  Confess  it 
now  !  I  know  what  you  are  doing :  I  will  after  him,  —  will 
know  where  you  have  sent  him!  " 

"  Be  calm,  my  child,"  replied  the  abbe",  with  assumed  com- 
posure ;  ' '  come  with  me  to  your  room :  you  shall  know  it 
all ;  only  you  must  have  the  strength  to  listen,  if  you  ask  me 
to  relate."  He  offered  her  his  hand,  as  if  he  meant  to  lead 
her  out.  "I  will  not  return  to  my  room,"  cried  she:  "I 
hate  the  walls  where  you  have  kept  me  prisoner  so  long. 
I  know  it  already :  the  colonel  has  challenged  him ;  he  is 


378  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

gone  to  meet  his  enemy :  perhaps  this  very  moment  he  — 
once  or  twice  I  thought  I  heard  the  sound  of  shots  !  I  tell 
you,  order  out  a  coach,  and  come  along  with  me,  or  I  will  fill 
the  house  and  all  the  village  with  my  screaming." 

Weeping  bitterly,  she  hastened  to  the  window :  the  abbe 
held  her  back,  and  sought  in  vain  to  soothe  her. 

They  heard  a  sound  of  wheels  :  she  threw  up  the  window, 
exclaiming,  "  He  is  dead!  They  are  bringing  home  his 
body."  —  "He  is  coming  out,"  replied  the  abb6 :  "you 
perceive  he  lives."  —  "He  is  wounded,"  said  she  wildly, 
"  else  he  would  have  come  on  horseback.  They  are  hold- 
ing him  !  The  wound  is  dangerous  !  "  She  ran  to  the  door, 
and  down  the  stairs  :  the  abb6  hastened  after  her ;  and  Wil- 
helm,  following,  observed  the  fair  one  meet  her  lover,  who 
had  now  dismounted. 

Lothario  leaned  on  his  attendant,  whom  Wilhelm  at  once 
knew  as  his  ancient  patron,  Jarno.  The  wounded  man 
spoke  very  tenderly  and  kindly  to  the  tearful  damsel :  he 
rested  on  her  shoulder,  and  came  slowly  up  the  steps, 
saluted  Wilhelm  as  he  passed,  and  was  conducted  to  his 
cabinet. 

Jarno  soon  returned,  and,  going  up  to  Wilbelm,  "  It  ap- 
pears," said  he,  "  you  are  predestined  everywhere  to  find  a 
theatre  and  actors.  We  have  here  commenced  a  play  which 
is  not  altogether  pleasant." 

"  I  rejoice  to  find  you,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  in  so  strange 
an  hour :  1  am  astonished,  frightened  ;  and  your  presence 
already  quiets  my  mind.  Tell  me,  is  there  danger?  Is  the 
baron  badly  wounded?  " 

"  I  imagine  not,"  said  Jarno. 

It  was  not  long  till  the  young  surgeon  entered  from  the 
cabinet.  "Now,  what  say  you?"  cried  Jarno  to  him. 
"  That  it  is  a  dangerous  piece  of  work,"  replied  the  other, 
putting  several  instruments  into  his  leathern  pouch.  Wil- 
helm looked  at  the  band,  which  was  hanging  from  the  pouch  : 
he  fancied  he  knew  it.  Bright,  contrary  colors,  a  curious 
pattern,  gold  and  silver  wrought  in  singular  figures,  marked 
this  band  from  all  the  bands  in  the  world.  Wilhelm  was 
convinced  he  beheld  the  very  pouch  of  the  ancient  surgeon 
who  had  dressed  his  wounds  in  the  green  of  the  forest ;  and 
the  hope,  so  long  deferred,  of  again  finding  traces  of  the 
lovely  Amazon,  struck  like  a  flame  through  all  his  soul. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  pouch?  "  cried  he.  "  To  whom 
did  it  belong  before  you?  I  beg  of  you,  tell  me."  —  "I 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  379 

bought  it  at  an  auction,"  said  the  other:  "  what  is  it  to  me 
whom  it  belonged  to?"  So  speaking,  he  went  out;  and 
Jarno  said,  "  If  there  would  come  but  one  word  of  truth 
from  our  young  doctor's  mouth!"  —  "Then,  he  did  not 
buy  the  pouch?  "  said  Wilhelm.  "  Just  as  little  as  Lothario 
is  in  danger,"  said  the  other. 

Wilhelm  stood,  immersed  in  many  reflections  :  Jarno  asked 
how  he  had  fared  of  late.  Wilhelm  sketched  an  outline  of 
his  history  ;  and  when  he  at  last  came  to  speak  of  Aurelia's 
death,  and  his  message  to  the  place,  his  auditor  exclaimed, 
' '  Well !  it  is  strange !  most  strange  !  ' ' 

The  abbe"  entered  from  Lothario's  chamber,  beckoned 
Jarno  to  go  in  instead  of  him,  and  said  to  Wilhelm,  "  The 
baron  bids  me  ask  you  to  remain  with  us  a  day  or  two,  to 
share  his  hospitality,  and,  in  the  present  circumstances,  con- 
tribute to  his  solacement.  If  you  need  to  give  any  notice 
to  your  people,  your  letter  shall  be  instantly  despatched. 
Meanwhile,  to  make  you  understand  this  curious  incident,  of 
which  you  have  been  witness,  I  must  tell  you  something, 
which,  indeed,  is  no  secret.  The  baron  had  a  small  adven- 
ture with  a  lady,  which  excited  more  than  usual  attention ; 
the  lady  having  taken  him  from  a  rival,  and  wishing  to  enjoy 
her  victory  too  ostentatiously.  After  a  time  he  no  longer 
found  the  same  delight  in  her  society ;  which  he,  of  course, 
forsook :  but,  being  of  a  violent  temper,  she  could  not  bear 
her  fate  with  patience.  Meeting  at  a  ball,  they  had  an  open 
quarrel :  she  thought  herself  irreparably  injured,  and  would 
be  revenged.  No  knight  stepped  forth  to  do  battle  for  her ; 
till  her  husband,  whom  for  years  she  had  not  lived  with,  heard 
of  the  affair  and  took  it  up.  He  challenged  the  baron,  and 
to-day  he  has  wounded  him ;  yet,  as  I  hear,  the  gallant 
colonel  has  himself  come  still  worse  off." 

From  this  hour  our  friend  was  treated  in  the  house  as  if 
he  had  belonged  to  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AT  times  they  had  read  a  little  to  the  patient :  Wilhelm 
joyfully  performed  this  service.  Lydia  stirred  not  from 
Lothario's  bed  :  her  care  for  him  absorbed  her  whole  atten- 


380  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

tion.  But  to-day  the  patient  himself  seemed  occupied  with 
thought:  he  bade  them  lay  aside  their  book.  "To-day," 
said  he,  "  I  feel  through  my  whole  heart  how  foolishly  we 
let  our  time  pass  on.  How  many  things  have  I  proposed 
to  do,  how  many  have  I  planned ;  yet  how  we  loiter  in  our 
noblest  purposes  !  I  have  just  read  over  the  scheme  of  the 
changes  which  I  mean  to  make  in  my  estates ;  and  it  is 
chiefly,  I  may  say,  on  their  account  that  I  rejoice  at  the 
bullet's  not  having  gone  a  deadlier  road." 

Lydia  looked  at  him  with  tenderness,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes  ;  as  if  to  ask  if  she,  if  his  friends,  could  not  pretend  to 
any  interest  in  his  wish  to  live.  Jarno  answered,  "  Changes 
such  as  you  project  require  to  be  considered  well  on  every 
side  before  they  are  resolved  on." 

"  Long  considerations,"  said  Lothario,  "  are  commonly  a 
proof  that  we  have  not  the  point  to  be  determined  clearly  in 
our  eye  ;  precipitate  proceedings,  that  we  do  not  know  it.  I 
see  distinctly,  that,  in  managing  my  property,  there  are  sev- 
eral particulars  in  which  the  services  of  my  dependants  can- 
not be  remitted ;  certain  rights  which  I  must  rigidly  insist  on : 
but  I  also  see  that  there  are  other  articles,  advantageous  to 
me,  but  by  no  means  indispensable,  which  might  admit  of 
relaxation.  Do  I  not  profit  by  my  lands  far  better  than  my 
father  did  ?  Is  not  my  income  still  increasing  ?  And  shall  I 
alone  enjoy  this  growing  benefit  ?  Shall  not  those  who  labor 
with  and  for  me  partake,  in  their  degree,  of  the  advantages 
which  expanding  knowledge,  which  a  period  of  improvement, 
are  procuring  for  us?  " 

"  'Tis  human  nature!"  cried  Jarno:  "  I  do  not  blame 
myself  when  I  detect  this  selfish  quality  among  the  rest. 
Every  man  desires  to  gather  ah1  things  round  him,  to  shape 
and  manage  them  according  to  his  own  pleasure  :  the  money 
which  he  himself  does  not  expend,  he  seldom  reckons  well 
expended." 

"  Certainly,"  observed  Lothario,  "  much  of  the  capital 
might  be  abated  if  we  consumed  the  interest  less  capri- 
ciously." 

"The  only  thing  I  shall  mention,"  said  the  other,  "the 
only  reason  I  can  urge  against  your  now  proceeding  with 
those  alterations,  which,  for  a  time  at  least,  must  cause  you 
loss,  is,  that  you  yourself  are  still  in  debt,  and  that  the  pay- 
ment presses  hard  on  you.  My  advice  is,  therefore,  to  post- 
pone your  plan  till  you  are  altogether  free." 

"  And  in  the  mean  while  leave  it  at  the  mercy  of  a  bullet, 


MEISTEll'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  881 

or  the  fall  of  a  tile,  to  annihilate  the  whole  result  of  my  ex- 
istence and  activity  !  O  my  friend !  it  is  ever  thus  :  it  is  ever 
the  besetting  fault  of  cultivated  men,  that  they  wish  to  spend 
their  whole  resources  on  some  idea,  scarcely  any  part  of 
them  on  tangible,  existing  objects.  Why  was  it  that  I  con- 
tracted debts,  that  I  quarrelled  with  my  uncle,  that  I  left  my 
sisters  to  themselves  so  long  ?  Purely  for  the  sake  of  an 
idea.  In  America  I  fancied  I  might  accomplish  something ; 
over  seas,  I  hoped  to  become  useful  and  essential :  if  any 
task  was  not  begirt  with  a  thousand  dangers,  I  considered  it 
trivial,  unworthy  of  me.  How  differently  do  matters  now 
appear!  How  precious,  how  important,  seems  the  duty 
which  is  nearest  me,  whatever  it  may  be  !  " 

"  I  recollect  the  letter  which  you  sent  me  from  the  Western 
world,"  said  Jarno:  "it  contains  the  words,  'I  will  return; 
and  in  my  house,  amid  my  fields,  among  my  people,  I  will 
say,  Here  or  nowhere  is  America!  ' : 

"Yes,  my  friend;  and  I  am  still  repeating  it,  and  still 
repining  at  myself  that  I  am  not  so  busy  here  as  I  was  there. 
For  certain  equable,  continuous  modes  of  life,  there  is  noth- 
ing more  than  judgment  necessary,  and  we  study  to  attain 
nothing  more :  so  that  we  become  unable  to  discern  what 
extraordinary  services  each  vulgar  day  requires  of  us ;  or, 
if  we  do  discern  them,  we  find  abundance  of  excuses  for  not 
doing  them.  A  judicious  man  is  valuable  to  himself,  but  of 
little  value  for  the  general  whole." 

"We  will  not,"  said  Jarno,  "bear  too  hard  upon  judg- 
ment :  let  us  grant,  that,  whenever  extraordinary  things  are 
done,  they  are  generally  foolish." 

"Yes!  and  just  because  they  are  not  done  according  to 
the  proper  plan.  My  brother-in-law,  you  see,  is  giving  up 
his  fortune,  so  far  as  in  his  power,  to  the  Community  of 
Herrnhut :  he  reckons,  that,  by  doing  so,  he  is  advancing  the 
salvation  of  his  soul.  Had  he  sacrificed  a  small  portion  of 
his  revenue,  he  might  have  rendered  many  people  happy, 
might  have  made  for  them  and  for  himself  a  heaven  upon 
earth.  Our  sacrifices  are  rarely  of  an  active  kind  :  we,  as  it 
were,  abandon  what  we  give  away.  It  is  not  from  resolu- 
tion, but  despair,  that  we  renounce  our  property.  In  these 
days,  I  confess  it,  the  image  of  the  count  is  hovering  con- 
stantly before  me :  I  have  firmly  resolved  on  doing  from 
conviction  what  a  crazy  fear  is  forcing  upon  him.  I  will  not 
wait  for  being  cured.  Here  are  the  papers :  they  require 
only  to  be  properly  drawn  out.  Take  the  lawyer  with  you ; 


382  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

our  guest  will  help :  what  I  want,  you  know  as  well  as  I ; 
recovering  or  dying,  I  will  stand  by  it,  and  say,  Here  or  no- 
where is  Herrnhut!" 

When  he  mentioned  dying,  Lydia  sank  before  his  bed : 
she  hung  upon  his  arm,  and  wept  bitterly.  The  surgeon 
entered  :  Jarno  gave  our  friend  the  papers,  and  made  Lydia 
leave  the  room. 

"For  Heaven's  sake  !  what  is  this  about  the  count?"  cried 
Wilhelm,  when  they  reached  the  hall  and  were  alone.  "What 
count  is  it  that  means  to  join  the  Herruhuters  ?  " 

"One  whom  you  know  very  well,"  said  Jarno.  "You 
yourself  are  the  ghost  who  have  frightened  the  unhappy 
wiseacre  into  piety :  you  are  the  villain  who  have  brought 
his  pretty  wife  to  such  a  state  that  she  inclines  accompanying 
him." 

"And  she  is  Lothario's  sister?"  cried  our  friend. 

"  No  other  ! "  —  "  And  Lothario  knows  "  — 

"The  whole!" 

"Oh,  let  me  fly ! "  cried  Wilhelm.  "How  shall  I  appear 
before  him?  What  can  he  say  to  me?" 

"That  no  man  should  cast  a  stone  at  his  brother;  that 
when  one  composes  long  speeches,  with  a  view  to  shame  bis 
neighbors,  he  should  speak  them  to  a  looking-glass." 

"Do  you  know  that  too?" 

"And  many  things  beside,"  said  Jarno,  with  a  smile. 
"But  in  the  present  case,"  continued  he,  "you  shall  not  get 
away  from  me  so  easily  as  you  did  last  time.  You  need  not 
now  be  apprehensive  of  my  bounty-money :  I  have  ceased 
to  be  a  soldier ;  when  I  was  one,  you  might  have  thought 
more  charitably  of  me.  Since  you  saw  me,  many  things 
have  altered.  My  prince,  my  only  friend  and  benefactor, 
being  dead,  I  have  now  withdrawn  from  busy  life  and  its 
concerns.  I  used  to  have  a  pleasure  in  advancing  what  was 
reasonable ;  when  I  met  with  any  despicable  thing,  I  hesi- 
tated not  to  call  it  so ;  and  men  had  never  done  with  talking 
of  my  restless  head  and  wicked  tongue.  The  herd  of  people 
dread  sound  understanding  more  than  any  thing :  they  ought 
to  dread  stupidity,  if  they  had  any  notion  what  was  really 
dreadful.  Understanding  is  unpleasant,  they  must  have  it 
pushed  aside ;  stupidity  is  but  pernicious,  they  can  let  it 
stay.  Well,  be  it  so!  I  need  to  live:  I  will  by  and  by 
communicate  my  plans  to  you  ;  if  you  incline,  you  shall  par- 
take in  them.  But  tell  me  first  how  things  have  gone  with 
you.  I  see,  I  feel,  that  you  are  changed.  How  is  it  with 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  383 

your  ancient  maggot  of  producing  something  beautiful  and 
good  in  the  society  of  gypsies  ? ' ' 

' ' Do  not  speak  of  it ! "  cried  "VVilhelm :  "I  have  been 
already  punished  for  it.  People  talk  about  the  stage,  but 
none  that  has  not  been  upon  it  can  form  the  smallest  notion 
of  it.  How  utterly  these  men  are  unacquainted  with  them- 
selves, how  thoughtlessly  they  carry  on  their  trade,  how 
boundless  their  pretensions  are,  no  mortal  can  conceive. 
Each  would  be  not  only  first,  but  sole ;  each  wishes  to  ex- 
clude the  rest,  and  does  not  see  that  even  with  them  he  can 
scarcely  accomplish  any  thing.  Each  thinks  himself  a  man 
of  marvellous  originality ;  yet,  with  a  ravening  appetite  for 
novelty,  he  cannot  walk  a  footstep  from  the  beaten  track. 
How  vehemently  they  counterwork  each  other !  It  is  only 
the  pitifullest  self-love,  the  narrowest  views  of  interest,  that 
unite  them.  Of  reciprocal  accommodation  they  have  no 
idea :  backbiting  and  hidden  spitefulness  maintain  a  constant 
jealousy  among  them.  In  their  lives  they  are  either  rakes 
or  simpletons.  Each  claims  the  loftiest  respect,  each  writhes 
under  the  slightest  blame.  'All  this  he  knew  already,'  he 
will  tell  you!  Why,  then,  did  he  not  do  it?  Ever  needy, 
ever  uuconfiding,  they  seem  as  if  their  greatest  fear  were 
reason  and  good  taste ;  their  highest  care,  to  secure  the 
majesty  of  their  self-will." 

Wilhelm  drew  breath,  intending  to  proceed  with  his  eulo- 
gium,  when  an  immoderate  laugh  from  Jarno  interrupted 
him.  "Poor  actors  !  "  cried  he  ;  threw  himself  into  a  chair, 
and  laughed  away.  "  Poor,  dear  actors !  Do  you  know,  my 
friend,"  continued  he,  recovering  from  his  fit,  "that  you 
have  been  describing,  not  the  playhouse,  but  the  world ; 
that,  out  of  all  ranks,  I  could  find  you  characters  and  doings 
in  abundance  to  suit  your  cruel  pencil  ?  Pardon  me  :  it  makes 
me  laugh  again,  that  you  should  think  these  amiable  qualities 
existed  on  the  boards  alone." 

"Wilhelm  checked  his  feelings.  Jarno's  extravagant,  un- 
timely laughter  had  in  truth  offended  him.  "It  is  scarcely 
hiding  your  misanthropy,"  said  he,  "when  you  maintain 
that  faults  like  these  are  universal." 

"And  it  shows  your  unacquaintance  with  the  world,  when 
you  impute  them  to  the  theatre  in  such  a  heinous  light.  I 
pardon,  in  the  player,  every  fault  that  springs  from  self- 
deception  and  the  desire  to  please.  If  he  seem  not  something 
to  himself  and  others,  he  is  nothing.  To  seem  is  his  voca- 
tion ;  he  must  prize  his  moment  of  applause,  for  he  gets  no 


384  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

other  recompense ;  he  must  try  to  glitter,  —  he  is  there  to 
do  so." 

"You  will  give  me  leave  at  least  to  smile,  in  my  turn," 
answered  Wilhelm.  "  I  should  never  have  believed  that  you 
could  be  so  merciful,  so  tolerant." 

"I  swear  to  you  I  am  serious,  fully  and  deliberately  seri- 
ous. All  faults  of  the  man  I  can  pardon  in  the  player :  no 
fault  of  the  player  can  I  pardon  in  the  man.  Do  not  set  me 
upon  chanting  my  lament  about  the  latter :  it  might  have 
a  sharper  sound  than  3rours." 

The  surgeon  entered  from  the  cabinet ;  and,  to  the  question 
how  his  patient  was,  he  answered,  with  a  lively  air  of  com- 
plaisance, "Extremely  well,  indeed:  I  hope  soon  to  see  him 
quite  recovered."  He  hastened  through  the  hall,  not  waiting 
Wilhelm' s  speech,  who  was  preparing  to  inquire  again  with 
greater  importunity  about  the  leathern  case.  His  anxiety  to 
gain  some  tidings  of  his  Amazon  inspired  him  with  confidence 
in  Jarno :  he  disclosed  his  case  to  him,  and  begged  his  help. 
"You  that  know  so  many  things,"  said  he,  "can  you  not 
discover  this  ? ' ' 

Jarno  reflected  for  a  moment ;  then,  turning  to  his  friend, 
"Be  calm,"  said  he,  "give  no  one  any  hint  of  it:  we  shall 
come  upon  the  fair  one's  footsteps,  never  fear.  At  present 
I  am  anxious  only  for  Lothario  :  the  case  is  dangerous  ;  the 
kindliness  and  comfortable  talking  of  the  doctor  tells  me  so. 
We  should  be  quit  of  Lydia,  for  here  she  does  no  good ;  but 
how  to  set  about  the  task  I  know  not.  To-night  I  am 
looking  for  our  old  physician:  we  shall  then  take  further 
counsel." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  physician  came :  it  was  the  good,  old,  little  doctor 
whom  we  know  already,  and  to  whom  we  were  obliged  for 
the  communication  of  the  pious  manuscript.  First  of  all, 
he  visited  the  wounded  man,  with  whose  condition  he  ap- 
peared to  be  by  no  means  satisfied.  He  had  next  a  long 
interview  with  Jarno,  but  they  made  no  allusion  to  the  sub- 
ject of  it  when  they  came  to  supper. 

Wilhelm  saluted  him  in  the  kindest  manner,  and  inquired 
about  the  harper.  "We  have  still  hopes  of  bringing  round 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  385 

the  hapless  creature,"  answered  the  physician.  "  He  formed 
a  dreary  item  in  your  limited  and  singular  way  of  life," 
said  Jarno.  "  How  has  it  fared  with  him?  Tell  me." 

Having  satisfied  Jarno's  curiosity,  the  physician  thus  pro- 
ceeded: •'!  have  never  seen  another  man  so  strangely  cir- 
cumstanced. For  many  years  he  has  not  felt  the  smallest 
interest  in  any  thing  without  him,  scarcely  paid  the  smallest 
notice  to  it :  wrapped  up  in  himself,  he  has  looked  at  noth- 
ing but  his  own  hollow,  empty  Me,  which  seemed  to  him  like 
an  immeasurable  abyss.  It  was  really  touching  when  he 
spoke  to  us  of  this  mournful  state.  '  Before  me,'  cried  he, 
4 1  see  nothing ;  behind  me  nothing  but  an  endless  night,  in 
which  I  live  in  the  most  horrid  solitude.  There  is  no  feel- 
ing in  me  but  the  feeling  of  my  guilt ;  and  this  appears  but 
like  a  dim,  formless  spirit,  far  before  me.  Yet  here  there  is 
no  height,  no  depth,  no  forwards,  no  backwards  :  no  words 
can  express  this  never-changing  state.  Often  in  the  agony 
of  this  sameness  I  exclaim  with  violence,  Forever !  Forever ! 
and  this  dark,  incomprehensible  word  is  clear  and  plain  to 
the  gloom  of  my  condition.  No  ray  of  Divinity  illuminates 
this  night :  I  shed  all  my  tears  by  myself  and  for  myself. 
Nothing  is  more  horrible  to  me  than  friendship  and  love, 
for  they  alone  excite  in  me  the  wish  that  the  apparitions 
which  surround  me  might  be  real.  But  these  two  spectres 
also  have  arisen  from  the  abyss  to  plague  me,  and  at  length 
to  tear  from  me  the  precious  consciousness  of  my  existence, 
unearthly  though  it  be.' 

"You  should  hear  him  speak,"  continued  the  physician, 
"  when  in  hours  of  confidence  he  thus  alleviates  his  heart.  I 
have  listened  to  him  often  with  the  deepest  feelings.  When 
pressed  by  any  thing,  and,  as  it  were,  compelled  for  an  instant 
to  confess  that  a  space  of  time  has  passed,  he  looks  astounded, 
then  again  refers  the  alteration  to  the  things  about  him,  con- 
sidering it  as  an  appearance  of  appearances,  and  so  rejecting 
the  idea  of  progress  in  duration.  One  night  he  sung  a  song 
about  his  gray  hairs :  we  all  sat  round  him  weeping." 

"  Oh,  get  it  for  me  !  "  cried  Wilhelm. 

"  But  have  you  not  discovered  any  trace  of  what  he  calls 
his  crime?  "  inquired  Jarno  :  "  nor  found  out  the  reason  of 
his  wearing  such  a  singular  garb  ;  of  his  conduct  at  the  burn- 
ing of  the  house  ;  of  his  rage  against  the  child?  " 

"It  is  only  by  conjectures  that  we  can  approximate  to 
any  knowledge  of  his  fate  :  to  question  him  directly  contra- 
dicts our  principle.  Observing  easily  that  he  was  of  the 


386  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Catholic  religion,  we  thought  perhaps  confession  might  afford 
him  some  assuagement ;  but  he  shrinks  away  with  the  stran- 
gest gestures  every  time  we  try  to  introduce  the  priest  to  him. 
However,  not  to  leave  your  curiosity  respecting  him  entirely 
unsatisfied,  I  may  communicate  our  suppositions  on  the  sub- 
ject. In  his  youth,  we  think,  he  must  have  been  a  clergy- 
man :  hence  probably  his  wish  to  keep  his  beard  and  long 
cloak.  The  joys  of  love  appear  to  have  remained  for  many 
years  unknown  to  him.  Late  in  life,  as  we  conceive,  some 
aberration  with  a  lady  very  nearly  related  to  him ;  then  her 
death,  the  consequence  of  an  unlucky  creature's  birth,  — 
have  altogether  crazed  his  brain. 

"  His  chief  delusion  is  a  fancy  that  he  brings  misfortune 
everywhere  along  with  him  ;  and  that  death,  to  be  unwittingly 
occasioned  by  a  boy,  is  constantly  impending  over  him.  At 
first  he  was  afraid  of  Mignon,  not  knowing  that  she  was  a 
girl ;  then  Felix  frightened  him  ;  and  as,  with  all  his  misery, 
he  has  a  boundless  love  of  life,  this  may,  perhaps,  have  been 
the  origin  of  his  aversion  to  the  child." 

"What  hopes  have  you  of  his  recovery?"  inquired  our 
friend. 

"•It  advances  slowly,"  answered  the  physician,  "yet  it 
does  advance.  He  continues  his  appointed  occupations :  we 
have  now  accustomed  him  to  read  the  newspapers ;  he  always 
looks  for  them  with  eagerness." 

"  I  am  curious  about  his  songs,"  said  Jarno. 

"Of  these  I  can  engage  to  get  you  several,"  replied  the 
doctor.  "  Our  parson's  eldest  son,  who  frequently  writes 
down  his  father's  sermons,  has,  unnoticed  by  the  harper, 
marked  on  paper  many  stanzas  of  his  singing  ;  out  of  which 
some  songs  have  gradually  been  pieced  together." 

Next  morning  Jarno  met  our  friend,  and  said  to  him, 
"  We  have  to  ask  a  kindness  of  you.  Lydia  must,  for  some, 
time,  be  removed :  her  violent,  unreasonable  love  and  passion- 
ateuess  hinder  the  baron's  recovery.  His  wound  requires 
rest  and  calmness,  though  with  his  healthy  temperament 
it  is  not  dangerous.  You  see  how  Lydia  tortures  him  with 
her  tempestuous  anxieties,  her  ungovernable  terrors,  her 
never-drying  tears  ;  and  —  Enough  !  "  he  added  with  a 
smile,  after  pausing  for  a  moment,  "  our  doctor  expressly 
requires  that  she  must  quit  us  for  a  while.  We  have  got  her 
to  believe  that  a  ladj",  one  of  her  most  intimate  friends,  is  at 
present  in  the  neighborhood,  wishing  and  expecting  instantly 
to  see  her.  She  has  been  prevailed  upon  to  undertake  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  387 

journey  to  our  lawyer's,  which  is  hut  two  leagues  off.  This 
man  is  in  the  secret :  he  will  wofully  lament  that  Fraulein 
Theresa  should  just  have  left  him  again  ;  he  will  seem  to 
think  she  may  still  be  overtaken.  Lyclia  will  hasten  after 
her,  and,  if  you  prosper,  will  be  led  from  place  to  place. 
At  last,  if  she  insist  on  turning  back,  you  must  not  contra- 
dict her ;  but  the  night  will  help  you :  the  coachman  is  a 
cunning  knave,  and  we  shall  speak  with  him  before  he  goes. 
You  are  to  travel  with  her  in  the  coach,  to  talk  to  her,  and 
manage  the  adventure." 

"It  is  a  strange  and  dubious  commission  that  you  give 
me,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  How  painful  is  the  sight  of  true 
love  injured !  And  am  I  to  be  the  instrument  of  injuring  it? 
I  have  never  cheated  an}1  person  so  ;  for  it  has  always  seemed 
to  me,  that  if  we  once  begin  deceiving,  with  a  view  to  good 
and  useful  purposes,  we  run  the  risk  of  carrying  it  to  excess." 

"Yet  you  cannot  manage  children  otherwise,"  said  Jarno. 

"  With  children  it  may  do,"  said  Wilhelm  ;  "  for  we  love 
them  tenderly,  and  take  an  open  charge  of  them.  But  with 
our  equals,  in  behalf  of  whom  our  heart  is  not  so  sure  to  call 
upon  us  for  forbearance,  it  might  frequently  be  dangerous. 
Yet  do  not  think,"  he  added,  after  pausing  for  a  moment, 
"  that  I  purpose  to  decline  the  task  on  this  account.  Hon- 
oring your  judgment  as  I  do,  feeling  such  attachment  to 
your  noble  friend,  such  eagerness  to  forward  his  recovery  by 
whatever  means,  I  willingly  forget  myself  and  my  opinions. 
It  is  not  enough  that  we  can  risk  our  life  to  serve  a  friend  : 
in  the  hour  of  need,  we  should  also  yield  him  our  convic- 
tions. Our  dearest  passions,  our  best  wishes,  we  are  bound 
to  sacrifice  in  helping  him.  I  undertake  the  charge  ;  though 
it  is  easy  to  foresee  the  pain  I  shall  have  to  suffer,  from  the 
tears,  from  the  despair,  of  Lydia." 

"•And,  for  this,  no  small  reward  awaits  you,"  answered 
Jaruo :  "Fraulein  Theresa,  whom  you  get  acquainted  with, 
is  a  lady  such  as  you  will  rarely  see.  She  puts  many  a  man 
to  shame  ;  I  may  say,  she  is  a  genuine  Amazon  :  while  others 
are  but  pretty  counterfeits,  that  wander  up  and  down  the 
world  in  that  ambiguous  dress." 

Wilhelm  was  struck  :  he  almost  fancied  that  in  Theresa  he 
would  find  his  Amazon  again  ;  especially  as  Jarno,  whom  he 
importuned  to  tell  him  more,  broke  off  abruptly,  and  went 
away. 

The  new,  near  hope  of  once  more  seeing  that  beloved  and 
honored  being  awoke  a  thousand  feelings  in  his  heart.  He 


388  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

now  looked  upon  the  task  which  had  been  given  him  as  tho 
intervention  of  a  special  Providence :  the  thought  that  he 
was  minded  treacherously  to  carry  off  a  helpless  girl  from 
the  object  of  her  sincerest,  warmest  love  dwelt  but  a  mo- 
ment in  his  mind,  as  the  shadow  of  a  bird  flits  over  the  sun- 
shiny earth. 

The  coach  was  at  the  door :  Lydia  lingered  for  a  moment, 
as  she  was  about  to  mount.  "•  Salute  your  lord  again  for 
me,"  said  she  to  the  old  servant:  "  tell  him  that  I  shall  be 
home  before  night."  Tears  were  standing  in  her  eyes  as  she 
again  looked  back  when  the  carriage  started.  She  then 
turned  round  to  Wilhelm,  made  an  effort  to  compose  herself, 
and  said,  "  In  Fraulein  Theresa  you  will  find  a  very  interest- 
ing person.  I  wonder  what  it  is  that  brings  her  hither  ;  for, 
you  must  know,  Lothario  and  she  once  passionately  loved  each 
other.  In  spite  of  the  distance,  he  often  used  to  visit  her : 
I  was  staying  with  her  then ;  I  thought  they  would  have 
lived  and  died  for  one  another.  But  all  at  once  it  went  to 
wreck,  no  creature  could  discover  why.  He  had  seen  me, 
and  I  must  confess  that  I  was  envious  of  Theresa's  fortune ; 
that  I  scarcely  hid  my  love  from  him  ;  that,  when  he  suddenly 
appeared  to  choose  me  in  her  stead,  I  could  not  but  accept 
of  him.  She  behaved  to  me  beyond  my  wishes,  though  it 
almost  seemed  as  if  I  had  robbed  her  of  this  precious  lover. 
But,  ah  !  how  many  thousand  tears  and  pains  that  love  of  his 
has  cost  me !  At  first  we  met  only  now  and  then,  and  by 
stealth,  at  some  appointed  place :  but  I  could  not  long  en- 
dure that  kind  of  life  ;  in  his  presence  only  was  I  happy, 
wholty  happy !  Far  from  him,  my  eyes  were  never  dry,  my 
pulse  was  never  calm.  Once  he  staid  away  for  several 
days :  I  was  altogether  in  despair ;  I  ordered  out  my  carriage, 
and  surprised  him  here.  He  received  me  tenderly ;  and,  had 
not  this  unlucky  quarrel  happened,  I  should  have  led  a  heav- 
enly life  with  him.  But,  since  the  time  he  began  to  be  in 
danger  and  in  pain,  I  shall  not  say  what  I  have  suffered :  at 
this  moment  I  am  bitterly  reproaching  myself  that  I  could 
leave  him  for  a  single  day." 

Wilhelm  was  proceeding  to  inquire  about  Theresa,  when 
they  reached  the  lawyer's  house.  This  gentleman  came  for- 
ward to  the  coach,  lamenting  wofully  that  Fraulein  Theresa 
was  already  gone.  He  invited  them  to  breakfast ;  signifying, 
however,  that  the  lady  might  be  overtaken  in  the  nearest  vil- 
lage. They  determined  upon  following  her :  the  coachman 
did  not  loiter ;  they  had  soon  passed  several  villages,  and 


MEISTEIl'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  389 

yet  come  up  with  nobody.  Lydia  now  gave  orders  for 
returning :  the  coachman  drove  along,  as  if  he  did  not 
understand  her.  As  she  insisted  with  redoubled  vehemence, 
Wilhelm  called  to  him,  and  gave  the  promised  token.  The 
coachman  answered  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  go  back  by 
the  same  road  :  he  knew  a  shorter,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
greatly  easier  one.  He  turned  aside  across  a  wood,  and  over 
large  commons.  At  last,  no  object  they  could  recognize  ap- 
pearing, he  confessed  that  unfortunately  he  had  lost  his  way  ; 
declaring,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  would  soon  get  right 
again,  as  he  saw  a  little  town  before  him.  Night  came  on  : 
the  coachman  managed  so  discreetly,  that  he  asked  every- 
where, and  nowhere  waited  for  an  answer.  He  drove  along 
all  night :  Lydia  never  closed  an  eye  ;  in  the  moonshine  she 
was  constantly  detecting  similarities,  which  as  constantly 
turned  out  to  be  dissimilar.  In  the  morning  things  around 
seemed  known  to  her,  and  but  more  strange  on  that  account. 
The  coach  drew  up  before  a  neat  little  country-house :  a 
young  lady  stepped  out,  and  opened  the  carriage-door. 
Lydia  looked  at  her  with  a  stare  of  wonder,  looked  round, 
looked  at  her  again,  and  fainted  in  the  arms  of  Wilhelm. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WILHELM  was  conducted  to  a  little  upper  room  :  the  house 
was  new,  as  small  nearly  as  it  could  be,  and  extremely  orderly 
and  clean.  In  Theresa,  who  had  welcomed  him  and  Lydia 
at  the  coach,  he  had  not  found  his  Amazon  :  she  was  another 
and  an  altogether  different  woman.  Handsome,  and  but  of 
middle  stature,  she  moved  about  with  great  alertness ;  and 
it  seemed  as  if  her  clear,  blue,  open  eyes  let  nothing  that 
occurred  escape  them. 

She  entered  Wilhelm's  room,  inquiring  if  he  wanted  any 
thing.  "  Pardon  me,"  said  she,  "  for  having  lodged  you  in 
a  chamber  which  the  smell  of  paint  still  renders  disagree- 
able :  my  little  dwelling  is  but  just  made  ready ;  you  are 
handselling  this  room,  which  is  appointed  for  my  guests. 
Would  that  you  had  come  on  some  more  pleasant  errand  ! 
Poor  Lydia  is  like  to  be  a  dull  companion  :  in  other  points, 
also,  you  will  have  much  to  pardon.  My  cook  has  run  away 


390  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

from  me,  at  this  unseasonable  time  ;  and  a  serving-man  has 
bruised  his  hand.  The  case  might  happen  I  had  to  manage 
every  thing  myself ;  and  if  it  were  so,  why,  then  we  should 
just  put  up  with  it.  'One  is  plagued  so  with  nobody  as  with 
one's  servants :  none  of  them  will  serve  you,  scarcely  even 
serve  •himself." 

She  said  a  good  deal  more  on  different  matters  :  in  general 
she  seemed  to  like  speaking.  Wilhelm  inquired  for  Lydia, 
—  if  he  might  not  see  her,  and  endeavor  to  excuse  himself. 

"  It  will  have  no  effect  at  present,"  said  Theresa :  "•  time 
excuses,  as  it  comforts.  Words,  in  both  cases,  are  of  little 
effect.  Lydia  will  not  see  you.  '  Keep  him  from  my  sight,' 
she  cried,  when  I  was  leaving  her :  '  I  could  almost  despair 
of  human  nature.  Such  an  honorable  countenance,  so  frank 
a  manner,  and  this  secret  guile  ! '  Lothario  she  has  quite  for- 
given :  in  a  letter  to  the  poor  girl,  he  declares,  '  My  friends 
persuaded  me>  my  friends  compelled  me !  '  Among  these 
she  reckons  you,  and  she  condemns  you  with  the  rest." 

"  She  does  me  too  much  honor  iu  so  blaming  me,"  said 
Wilhelm:  "  I  have  no  pretension  to  the  friendship  of  that 
noble  gentleman  ;  on  this  occasion,  I  am  but  a  guiltless  in- 
strument. I  will  not  praise  what  I  have  done  :  it  is  enough 
that  I  could  do  it.  It  concerned  the  health,  it  concerned  the 
life,  of  a  man  whom  I  value  more  than  any  one  I  ever  knew 
before.  Oh,  what  a  man  is  he,  Fraulein  !  and  what  men  are 
they  that  live  about  him !  In  their  society,  I  for  the  first 
time,  I  may  well  say,  carried  on  a  conversation  ;  for  the  first 
time,  was  the  inmost  sense  of  my  words  returned  to  me,  more 
rich,  more  full,  more  comprehensive,  from  another's  mouth  ; 
what  I  had  been  groping  for  was  rendered  clear  to  me  ;  what 
I  had  been  thinking  I  was  taught  to  see.  Unfortunately  this 
enjo3~ment  was  disturbed,  at  first  by  numerous  anxieties  and 
whims,  and  then  by  this  unpleasant  task.  I  undertook  it 
with  submission ;  for  I  reckoned  it  my  duty,  even  though  I 
sacrificed  my  feelings,  to  comply  with  the  request  of  this 
gifted  company  of  men." 

While  he  spoke,  Theresa  had  been  looking  at  him  with  a 
very  friendly  air.  "  Oh,  how  sweet  is  it  to  hear  one's  own 
opinion  uttered  by  a  stranger  tongue  !  We  are  never  prop- 
erly ourselves  until  another  thinks  entirely  as  we  do.  My 
own  opinion  of  Lothario  is  perfectly  the  same  as  yours :  it  is 
not  every  one  that  does  him  justice,  and  therefore  all  that 
know  him  better  are  enthusiastic  in  esteem  of  him.  The 
painful  sentiment  that  mingles  with  the  memory  of  him  in 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  391 

my  heart  cannot  hinder  me  from  thinking  of  him  daily."  A 
sigh  heaved  her  bosom  as  she  spoke  thus,  and  a  lovely  tear 
glittered  in  her  right  eye.  "Think  not,"  continued  she, 
"•  that  I  am  so  weak,  so  easy  to  be  moved.  It  is  but  the  eye 
that  weeps.  There  was  a  little  wart  upon  the  under  eyelid  ; 
they  have  happily  removed  it,  but  the  eye  has  been  weak 
ever  since ;  the  smallest  cause  brings  a  tear  into  it.  Here 
sat  the  little  wart :  you  cannot  see  a  vestige  of  it  now." 

He  saw  no  vestige,  but  he  saw  into  her  eye ;  it  was  clear 
as  crystal :  he  almost  imagined  he  could  see  to  the  very  bot- 
tom of  her  soul. 

"  We  have  now,"  said  she,  "  pronounced  the  watchword 
of  our  friendship :  let  us  get  entirely  acquainted  as  fast  as 
possible.  The  history  of  every  person  paints  his  character. 
I  will  tell  you  what  my  life  has  been :  do  you,  too,  place  a 
little  trust  in  me,  and  let  us  be  united  even  when  distance 
parts  us.  The  world  is  so  waste  and  empty,  when  we  figure 
only  towns  and  hills  and  rivers  in  it ;  but  to  know  of  some 
one  here  and  there  whom  we  accord  with,  who  is  living  on 
with  us,  even  in  silence,  —  this  makes  our  earthly  ball  a  peo- 
pled garden." 

She  hastened  off,  engaging  soon  to  take  him  out  to  walk. 
Her  presence  had  affected  him  agreeably :  he  wished  to  be 
informed  of  her  relation  to  Lothario.  He  was  called :  she 
came  to  meet  him  from  her  room.  While  they  descended, 
necessarily  one  by  one,  the  straight  and  even  steepish  stairs, 
she  said,  "  All  this  might  have  been  larger  and  grander,  had  I 
chosen  to  accept  the  offers  of  your  generous  friend ;  but,  to 
continue  worthy  of  him,  I  must  study  to  retain  the  qualities 
which  gave  me  merit  in  his  eyes.  Where  is  the  steward?  " 
asked  she,  stepping  from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs.  "  You 
must  not  think,"  continued  she,  "  that  I  am  rich  enough  to 
need  a  steward :  the  few  acres  of  my  own  little  property  I 
myself  can  manage  well  enough.  The  steward  is  my  new 
neighbor's,  who  has  bought  a  fine  estate  beside  us,  every 
point  of  which  I  am  acquainted  with.  The  good  old  gentle- 
man is  lying  ill  of  gout :  his  men  are  strangers  here  ;  I  will- 
ingly assist  in  settling  them." 

They  took  a  walk  through  fields,  meadows,  and  some 
orchards.  Everywhere  Theresa  kept  instructing  the  stew- 
ard ;  nothing  so  minute  but  she  could  give  account  of  it : 
and  Wilhelm  had  reason  to  wonder  at  her  knowledge,  her 
precision,  the  prompt  dexterity  with  which  she  suggested 
means  for  ends.  She  loitered  nowhere,  always  hastened  to 


392  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  leading-points ;  and  thus  her  task  was  quickly  over. 
"  Salute  your  master,"  said  she,  as  she  sent  away  the  man  : 
"•I  mean  to  visit  him  as  soon  as  possible,  and  wish  him  a 
complete  recovery.  There,  now,"  she  added  with  a  smile, 
as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  "  I  might  soon  be  rich:  my  good 
neighbor,  I  believe,  would  not  be  disinclined  to  offer  me  his" 
hand." 

"  The  old  man  with  the  gout?  "  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  I  know 
not  how,  at  your  years,  you  could  bring  yourself  to  make  so 
desperate  a  determination."  —  "  Nor  am  I  tempted  to  it !  " 
said  Theresa.  "  Whoever  can  administer  what  he  possesses 
has  enough  ;  and  to  be  wealthy  is  a  burdensome  affair,  unless 
you  understand  it." 

Wilhelm  testified  his  admiration  at  her  skill  in  husbandry 
concerns.  "Decided  inclination,  early  opportunity,  exter- 
nal impulse,  and  continued  occupation  in  a  useful  business," 
said  she,  "  make  many  things,  which  were  at  first  far  harder, 
possible  in  life.  When  you  have  learned  what  causes  stim- 
ulated me  in  this  pursuit,  you  will  cease  to  wonder  at  the 
talent  you  now  think  strange." 

On  returning  home,  she  sent  him  to  her  little  garden. 
Here  he  could  scarcely  turn  himself,  so  narrow  were  the 
walks,  so  thickly  was  it  sown  and  planted.  On  looking  over 
to  the  court,  he  could  not  help  smiling :  the  firewood  was 
lying  there,  as  accurately  sawed,  split,  and  piled,  as  if  it  had 
been  part  of  the  building,  and  had  been  intended  to  con- 
tinue permanently  there.  The  tubs  and  implements,  all 
clean,  were  standing  in  their  places :  the  house  was  painted 
white  and  red  ;  it  was  really  pleasant  to  behold.  Whatever 
can  be  done  by  handicraft,  which  knows  not  beautiful  pro- 
portions, but  labors  for  convenience,  cheerfulness,  and 
durability,  appeared  united  in  this  spot.  They  served  him 
up  dinner  in  his  own  room :  he  had  time  enough  for  medi- 
tating. Especially  it  struck  him,  that  he  should  have  got 
acquainted  with  another  person  of  so  interesting  a  character, 
who  had  been  so  closely  related  to  Lothario.  "It  is  just," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  that  a  man  so  gifted  should  attract 
round  him  gifted  women.  How  far  the  influence  of  manli- 
ness and  dignity  extends  !  Would  that  others  did  not  come 
so  wofully  short,  compared  with  him !  Yes,  confess  tin7 
fear.  When  thou  meetest  with  thy  Amazon,  this  woman  of 
women,  in  spite  of  all  thy  hopes  and  dreaming,  thou  wilt 
find  her,  in  the  end,  to  thy  humiliation  and  thy  shame, — 
his  bride." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  393 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WILHELM  had  passed  a  restless  afternoon,  not  altogether 
without  tedium,  when  towards  evening  his  door  opened, 
and  a  handsome  hunter-boy  stepped  forward  with  a  bow. 
"Shall  we  have  a  walk?"  said  the  youth;  and  in  the 
instant  Wilhelm  recognized  Theresa  by  her  lovely  eyes. 

"Pardon  me  this  masquerade,"  said  she;  "for  now, 
alas  !  it  is  nothing  more.  But,  as  I  am  going  to  tell  you  of 
the  time  when  I  so  enjoyed  the  world,  I  will  recall  those 
days  by  every  method  to  my  fancy.  Come  along !  Even 
the  place  where  we  have  rested  so  often  from  our  hunts  and 
promenades  shall  help  me." 

They  went  accordingly.  On  their  way  Theresa  said  to 
her  attendant,  "It  is  not  fair  that  I  alone  should  speak : 
you  already  know  enough  of  me,  I  nothing  about  you.  Tell 
me,  in  the  mean  while,  something  of  yourself,  that  I  may 
gather  courage  to  submit  to  you  my  history  and  situation."  — 
"Alas!"  said  Wilhelm,  "I  have  nothing  to  relate  but 
error  on  the  back  of  error,  deviation  follo%iug  deviation ; 
and  I  know  none  from  whom  I  would  more  gladly  hide  my 
present  and  my  past  embarrassments  than  from  yourself. 
Your  look,  the  scene  you  move  in,  your  whole  temperament 
and  manner,  prove  to  me  that  you  have  reason  to  rejoice  in 
your  by-gone  life ;  that  you  have  travelled  by  a  fair,  clear 
path  in  constant  progress  ;  that  you  have  lost  no  time  ;  that 
you  have  nothing  to  reproach  yourself  withal." 

Theresa  answered  with  a  smile,  "  Let  us  see  if  you  will 
think  so  after  you  have  heard  my  history."  They  walked 
along:  among  some  general  remarks,  Theresa  asked  him, 
"Are  you  free?"  —  "I  think  I  am,"  said  he,  "and  yet  I 
do  not,  wish  it."  —  "Good!"  said  she:  "that  indicates  a 
complicated  story :  you  also  will  have  something  to  relate." 

Conversing  thus,  they  ascended  the  hill,  and  placed  them- 
selves beside  a  lofty  oak,  which  spread  its  shade  far  out  on 
every  side.  "  Here,"  said  she,  "  beneath  this  German  tree, 
will  I  disclose  to  you  the  history  of  a  German  maiden  :  listen 
to  me  patiently. 

"  My  father  was  a  wealthy  nobleman  of  this  province,  — a 
cheerful,  clear-sighted,  active,  able  man  ;  a  tender  father,  an 
upright  friend,  an  excellent  economist.  I  knew  but  one 
fault  in  him :  he  was  too  compliant  to  a  wife  who  did  not 
know  his  worth.  Alas  that  I  should  have  to  say  so  of  my 


394  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

mother!  Her  nature  was  the  opposite  of  his.  She  was 
quick  and  changeful ;  without  affection  either  for  her  home  or 
for  me,  her  only  child  :  extravagant,  but  beautiful,  sprightly, 
full  of  talent,  the  delight  of  a  circle  she  had  gathered  round 
her.  Her  society,  in  truth,  was  never  large ;  nor  did  it 
long  continue  the  same.  It  consisted  principally  of  men, 
for  no  woman  could  like  to  be  near  her ;  still  less  could  she 
endure  the  merit  or  the  praise  of  any  woman.  I  resembled 
my  father,  both  in  form  and  disposition.  As  the  duckling, 
with  its  first  footsteps,  seeks  the  water  ;  so,  from  my  earliest 
youth,  the  kitchen,  the  storeroom,  the  granaries,  the  fields, 
were  my  selected  element.  Cleanliness  and  order  in  the 
house  seemed,  even  while  I  was  playing  in  it,  to  be  my 
peculiar  instinct,  my  peculiar  object.  This  tendency  gave 
my  father  pleasure  ;  and  he  directed,  step  by  step,  my  child- 
ish endeavor  into  the  suitablest  emploj-ments.  On  the  con- 
trary, my  mother  did  not  like  me ;  and  she  never  for  a 
moment  hid  it. 

"  I  waxed  in  stature :  with  my  years  increased  my  turn 
for  occupation,  and  my  father's  love  to  me.  When  we  were 
by  ourselves,  when  walking  through  the  fields,  when  I  was 
helping  to  examine  his  accounts,  it  was  then  I  could  see  how 
glad  he  was.  While  gazing  on  his  eyes,  I  felt  as  if  I  had 
been  looking  in  upon  myself ;  for  it  was  in  the  eyes  that  I 
completely  resembled  him.  But,  in  the  presence  of  my 
mother,  he  lost  this  energy,  this  aspect:  he  excused  me 
mildly  when  she  blamed  me  unjustly  and  violently  ;  he  took 
my  part,  not  as  if  he  would  protect  me,  but  as  if  he  would 
extenuate  the  demerit  of  my  good  qualities.  To  none  of  her 
caprices  did  he  set  himself  in  opposition.  She  began  to  be 
immensely  taken  with  a  passion  for  the  stage :  a  theatre  was 
soon  got  up ;  of  men  of  all  shapes  and  ages,  crowding  to 
display  themselves  along  with  her  upon  her  boards,  she  had 
abundance ;  of  women,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  often 
a  scarcity.  Lydia,  a  pretty  girl  who  had  been  brought  up 
with  me,  and  who  promised  from  the  first  to  be  extremely 
beautiful,  had  to  undertake  the  secondary  parts ;  the  moth- 
ers and  the  aunts  were  represented  by  an  ancient  chamber- 
maid ;  while  the  leading  heroines,  lovers,  and  shepherdesses 
of  every  kind  were  seized  on  by  my  mother.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  ridiculous  it  seemed  to  me  to  see  the  people,  every 
one  of  whom  I  knew  full  well,  standing  on  their  scaffold,  and 
pretending,  after  they  had  dressed  themselves  in  other 
clothes,  to  pass  for  something  else  than  what  they  were. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  395 

In  my  eyes  they  were  never  an}*  thing  but  Lyclia  and  my 
mother,  this  baron  and  that  secretary,  whether  they  appeared 
as  counts  and  princes,  or  as  peasants ;  and  I  could  not 
understand  how  they  meant  to  make  me  think  that  they 
were  sad  or  happy,  that  they  were  indifferent  or  in  love, 
liberal  or  avaricious,  when  I  well  knew  the  contrary  to  be 
the  case.  Accordingly  I  very  seldom  staid  among  the 
audience :  I  always  snuffed  their  candles,  that  I  might  not 
be  entirely  without  employment ;  I  prepared  the  supper ; 
and  next  morning,  before  they  rose,  I  used  to  have  their 
wardrobe  all  sorted,  which  commonly,  the  night  before,  they 
had  left  in  a  chaotic  state. 

"To  my  mother  this  activity  appeared  quite  proper,  but 
her  love  I  could  not  gain.  She  despised  me ;  and  I  know 
for  certain  that  she  more  than  once  exclaimed  with  bitter- 
ness, '  If  the  mother  could  be  as  uncertain  as  the  father, 
you  would  scarcely  take  this  housemaid  for  my  daughter ! ' 
Such  treatment,  I  confess,  at  length  entirely  estranged  me 
from  her :  I  viewed  her  conduct  as  the  conduct  of  a  person 
unconnected  with  me  ;  and,  being  used  to  watch  our  servants 
like  a  falcon  (for  this,  be  it  said  in  passing,  is  the  ground 
of  all  true  housekeeping),  the  proceedings  of  ni}-  mother  and 
her  friends  at  the  same  time  naturally  forced  themselves 
upon  my  observation.  It  was  easy  to  perceive  that  she  did 
not  look  on  all  men  alike :  I  gave  sharper  heed,  and  soon 
found  out  that  Lydia  was  her  confidant,  and  had  herself,  by 
this  opportunity,  become  acquainted  with  a  passion,  whiqh, 
from  her  earliest  youth,  she  had  so  often  represented.  I 
was  aware  of  all  their  meetings ;  but  I  held  my  tongue, 
hinting  nothing  to  my  father,  whom  I  was  afraid  of  trou- 
bling. At  last,  however,  I  was  obliged  to  speak.  Many 
of  their  enterprises  could  not  be  accomplished  without  cor- 
rupting the  servants.  These  now  began  to  grow  refractory : 
they  despised  my  father's  regulations,  disregarded  my  com- 
mands. The  disorders  which  arose  from  this  I  could  not 
tolerate :  I  discovered  all,  complained  of  all  to  my  father. 

"  He  listened  to  me  calmly.  '  Good  girl ! '  replied  he  with 
a  smile  ;  '  I  know  it  all :  be  quiet,  bear  it  patiently  ;  for  it  is 
on  thy  account  alone  that  I  endure  it.' 

"  I  was  not  quiet :  I  had  not  patience.  I  in  secret  blamed 
my  father,  for  I  did  not  think  that  any  reason  should  induce 
him  to  endure  such  things.  I  called  for  regularity  from  all 
the  servants :  I  was  bent  on  driving  matters  to  extremity. 

"My  mother  had  been  rich  before  her  marriage,  yet  she 


396  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

squandered  more  than  she  had  a  right  to ;  and  this,  as  I 
observed,  occasioned  many  conferences  between  m}-  parents. 
For  a  long  time  the  evil  was  not  helped,  till  at  last  the  pas- 
sions of  my  mother  brought  it  to  a  head. 

"  Her  first  gallant  became  unfaithful  in  a  glaring  manner: 
the  house,  the  neighborhood,  her  whole  condition,  grew  offen- 
sive to  her.  She  insisted  on  removing  to  a  different  estate  ; 
there  she  was  too  solitary  :  she  insisted  on  removing  to  the 
town  ;  there  she  felt  herself  eclipsed  among  the  crowd.  Of 
much  that  passed  between  my  father  and  her  I  know  nothing : 
however,  he  at  last  determined,  under  stipulations  which  I 
did  not  learn,  to  consent  that  she  should  take  a  journey, 
which  she  had  been  meditating,  to  the  south  of  France. 

' '  We  were  now  free ;  we  lived  as  if  in  heaven  :  I  do  be- 
lieve my  father  could  not  be  a  loser,  had  he  purchased  her 
absence  by  a  considerable  sum.  All  our  useless  domestics 
were  dismissed,  and  fortune  seemed  to  smile  on  our  under- 
takings :  we  had  some  extremely  prosperous  years  ;  all  things 
succeeded  to  our  wish.  But,  alas !  this  pleasing  state  was 
not  of  long  continuance  :  altogether  unexpectedly  my  father 
had  a  shock  of  palsy ;  it  lamed  his  right  side,  and  deprived 
him  of  the  proper  use  of  speech.  We  had  to  guess  at  every 
thing  that  he  required,  for  he  never  could  pronounce  the 
word  that  he  intended.  There  were  times  when  this  was 
dreadfully  afflicting  to  us :  he  would  require  expressly  to  be 
left  alone  with  me  ;  with  earnest  gestures,  he  would  signify 
that  every  one  should  go  away  ;  and,  when  we  saw  ourselves 
alone,  he  could  not  speak  the  word  he  meant.  His  impatience 
mounted  to  the  highest  pitch :  his  situation  touched  me  to 
the  inmost  heart.  Thus  much  seemed  certain  :  he  had  some- 
thing which  he  wished  to  tell  me,  which  especially  concerned 
my  interest.  What  longing  did  I  feel  to  know  it !  At  other 
times  I  could  discover  all  things  in  his  eyes,  but  now  it  was 
in  vain.  Even  his  eyes  no  longer  spoke.  Only  this  was 
clear :  he  wanted  nothing,  he  desired  nothing ;  he  was  striv- 
ing to  discover  something  to  me,  which  unhappily  I  did  not 
learn.  His  malady  revisited  him  :  he  grew  entirely  inactive, 
incapable  of  motion  ;  and  a  short  time  afterwards  he  died. 

"  I  know  not  how  it  had  got  rooted  in  nry  thoughts,  that 
somewhere  he  had  hid  a  treasure  which  he  wished  at  death 
to  leave  me  rather  than  my  mother ;  I  searched  about  for 
traces  of  it  while  he  lived,  but  I  could  meet  with  none :  at 
his  death  a  seal  was  put  on  every  thing.  I  wrote  to  my 
mother,  offering  to  continue  in  the  house,  and  manage  for  her : 


MEISTEll'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  397 

she  refused,  and  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the  place.  A  mutual 
testament  was  now  produced  :  it  gave  my  mother  the  posses- 
sion and  the  use  of  all ;  and  I  was  left,  at  least  throughout 
her  life,  dependent  on  her.  It  was  now  that  I  conceived  I 
rightly  understood  my  father's  beckonings  :  I  pitied  him  for 
having  been  so  weak ;  he  had  let  himself  be  forced  to  do  un- 
justly to  me  even  after  he  was  dead.  Certain  of  my  friends 
maintained  that  it  was  little  better  than  if  he  had  disinherited 
me :  they  called  upon  me  to  attack  the  will  by  law,  but  this 
I  never  could  resolve  on  doing.  I  reverenced  my  father's 
memory  too  much  :  I  trusted  in  destiny  ;  I  trusted  in  myself. 

' '  There  was  a  lady  in  the  neighborhood  possessed  of  large 
property,  with  whom  I  had  always  been  on  good  terms  :  she 
gladly  received  me  ;  I  engaged  to  superintend  her  household, 
and  erelong  the  task  grew  very  easy  to  me.  She  lived  reg- 
ularly, she  loved  order  in  every  thing ;  and  I  faithfully 
assisted  her  in  struggling  with  her  steward  and  domestics. 
I  am  neither  of  a  niggardly  nor  grudging  temper ;  but  we 
women  are  disposed  to  insist,  more  earnestly  than  men,  that 
nothing  shall  be  wasted.  Embezzlement  of  all  sorts  is  in- 
tolerable to  us :  we  require  that  each  enjoy  exactly  in  so  far 
as  right  entitles  him. 

"  Here  I  was  in  my  element  once  more :  I  mourned  my 
father's  death  in  silence.  My  protectress  was  content  with 
me :  one  small  circumstance  alone  disturbed  my  peace. 
Lydia  returned :  my  mother  had  been  harsh  enough  to  cast 
the  poor  girl  off,  after  having  altogether  spoiled  her.  Lydia 
had  learned  with  her  mistress  ^o  consider  passions  as  her 
occupation :  she  was  wont  to  curb  herself  in  nothing.  On 
her  unexpected  re-appearance,  the  lady  whom  I  lived  with 
took  her  in  :  she  wished  to  help  me,  but  could  train  herself 
to  nothing. 

"  About  this  time  the  relatives  and  future  heirs  of  my 
protectress  often  visited  the  house,  to  recreate  themselves 
with  hunting.  Lothario  was  frequently  among  them  :  it  was 
not  long  till  I  had  noticed,  though  without  the  smallest  refer- 
ence to  myself ,  how  far  he  was  superior  to  the  rest.  He  was 
courteous  towards  all,  and  Lydia  seemed  erelong  to  have 
attracted  his  attention  to  her.  Constantly  engaged  in  some- 
thing, I  was  seldom  with  the  company  :  while  he  was  there 
I  did  not  talk  so  much  as  usual ;  for,  I  will  confess  it,  lively 
conversation,  from  of  old,  had  been  to  me  the  finest  season- 
ing of  existence.  With  my  father  I  was  wont  to  talk  of 
every  thing  that  happened.  What  you  do  not  speak-  of,  you 


398  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

will  seldom  accurately  think  of.  No  man  had  I  ever  heard 
with  greater  pleasure  than  I  did  Lothario,  when  he  told  us  of 
his  travels  and  campaigns.  The  world  appeared  to  lie  before 
him  clear  and  open,  as  to  me  the  district  was  in  which  I  lived 
and  managed.  We  were  not  entertained  with  marvel lous 
personal  adventures,  the  extravagant  half-truths  of  a  shallow 
traveller,  who  is  always  painting  out  himself,  and  not  the 
country  he  has  undertaken  to  describe.  Lothario  did  not  tell 
us  his  adventures :  he  led  us  to  the  place  itself.  I  have 
seldom  felt  so  pure  a  satisfaction. 

"  But  still  higher  was  my  pleasure  when  I  heard  him  talk, 
one  evening,  about  women.  The  subject  happened  to  be  in- 
troduced :  some  ladies  of  the  neighborhood  had  come  to  see 
us,  and  were  speaking,  in  the  common  style,  about  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  female  mind.  Our  sex,  they  said,  was  treated 
unjustly :  every  sort  of  higher  education  men  insisted  on 
retaining  for  themselves ;  they  admitted  us  to  no  science, 
they  required  us  either  to  be  dolls  or  family  drudges.  To  all 
this  Lothario  said  not  much ;  but,  when  the  party  was  a 
little  thinned,  he  gave  us  his  opinion  more  explicitly.  '  It 
is  very  strange,'  cried  he,  '  that  men  are  blamed  for  their 
proceeding  here :  they  have  placed  woman  on  the  highest 
station  she  is  capable  of  occupying.  And  where  is  there  any 
station  higher  than  the  ordering  of  the  house  ?  While  the 
husband  has  to  vex  himself  with  outward  matters,  while  he 
has  wealth  to  gather  and  secure,  while  perhaps  he  takes  part 
in  the  administration  of  the  state,  and  everywhere  depends 
on  circumstances ;  ruling  nothing,  I  may  say,  while  he  con- 
ceives that  he  is  ruling  much ;  compelled  to  be  but  politic 
where  he  would  willingly  be  reasonable,  to  dissemble  where 
he  would  be  open,  to  be  false  where  he  would  be  upright ; 
while  thus,  for  the  sake  of  an  object  which  he  never  reaches, 
he  must  every  moment  sacrifice  the  first  of  objects,  harmony 
with  himself,  —  a  reasonable  housewife  is  actually  governing 
in  the  interior  of  her  family ;  has  the  comfort  and  activity 
of  every  person  in  it  to  provide  for,  and  make  possible. 
What  is  the  highest  happiness  of  mortals,  if  not  to  execute 
what  we  consider  right  and  good,  —  to  be  realty  masters  of 
the  means  conducive  to  our  aims  ?  And  where  should  or  can 
our  nearest  aims  be,  but  in  the  interior  of  our  home?  All 
those  indispensable  and  still  to  be  renewed  supplies,  where  do 
we  expect,  do  we  require,  to  find  them,  if  not  in  the  place 
where  we  rise  and  where  we  go  to  sleep,  where  kitchen  and 
cellar,  and  every  species  of  accommodation  for  ourselves 


APPRENTICESHIP.  399 

and  ours,  is  to  be  always  ready  ?  What  unvarying  activity  is 
needed  to  conduct  this  constantly  recurring  series  in  unbroken 
living  order !  How  few  are  the  men  to  whom  it  is  given  to 
return  regularly  like  a  star,  to  command  their  day  as  they 
command  their  night ;  to  form  for  themselves  their  household 
instruments,  to  sow  and  to  reap,  to  gain  and  to  expand, 
aud  to  travel  round  their  circle  with  perpetual  success  and 
peace  and  love  !  It  is  when  a  woman  has  attained  this  inward 
mastery,  that  she  truly  makes  the  husband  whom  she  loves, 
a  master :  her  attention  will  acquire  all  sorts  of  knowledge  ; 
her  activity  will  turn  them  all  to  profit.  Thus  is  she  depend- 
ent upon  no  one ;  and  she  procures  her  husband  genuine 
independence,  that  which  is  interior  and  domestic :  whatever 
he  possesses,  he  beholds  secured ;  what  he  earns,  well  em- 
ployed :  and  thus  he  can  direct  his  mind  to  lofty  objects ;  and, 
if  fortune  favors,  he  may  act  in  the  state  the  same  char- 
acter which  so  well  becomes  his  wife  at  home.' 

"  He  then  described  to  us  the  kind  of  wife  he  wished.  I 
reddened ;  for  he  was  describing  me,  as  I  looked  and  lived. 
I  silently  enjoyed  my  triumph ;  and  the  more,  as  I  perceived, 
from  all  the  circumstances,  that  he  had  not  meant  me  indi- 
vidually, that,  indeed,  he  did  not  know  me.  I  cannot  recol- 
lect a  more  delightful  feeling  in  my  life  than  this,  when  a 
man  whom  I  so  highly  valued  gave  the  preference,  not  to 
my  person,  but  to  my  inmost  nature.  ^What  a  recompense 
did  I  consider  it !  What  encouragement  did  it  afford  me  ! 

"  So  soon  as  they  were  gone,  my  worthy  benefactress  with 
a  smile  observed  to  me,  "  Pity  that  men  often  think  and 
speak  of  what  they  will  never  execute,  else  here  were  a 
special  match,  the  exact  thing  for  my  dear  Theresa ! '  I 
made  sport  of  her  remark,  and  added,  that  indeed  men's 
understanding  gave  its  vote  for  household  wives,  but  that 
their  heart  and  imagination  longed  for  other  qualities ;  and 
that  we  household  people  could  not  stand  a  rivalry  with 
beautiful  and  lovely  women.  This  was  spoken  for  the  ear 
of  Lydia ;  she  did  not  hide  from  us  that  Lothario  had  made 
a  deep  impression  on  her  heart:  and,  in  reality,  he  seemed 
at  each  new  visit  to  grow  more  and  more  attentive  to  her. 
She  was  poor,  and  not  of  rank  ;  she  could  not  think  of  mar- 
riage ;  but  she  was  unable  to  resist  the  dear  delight  of 
charming  and  of  being  charmed.  I  had  never  loved,  nor 
did  I  love  at  present ;  but  though  it  was  unspeakably  agree- 
able to  see  in  what  light  my  turn  of  mind  was  viewed,  how 
high  it  was  ranked  by  such  a  man,  I  will  confess  I  still  was 


400  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

not  altogether  satisfied.  I  now  wished  that  he  should  be 
acquainted  with  me,  and  should  take  a  personal  interest  in 
me.  This  wish  arose,  without  the  smallest  settled  thought 
of  anj-  thing  that  could  result  from  it. 

"•  The  greatest  service  I  did  my  benefactress  was  in  bring- 
ing into  order  the  extensive  forests  which  belonged  to  her. 
In  this  precious  property,  whose  value  time  and  circum- 
stances were  continually  increasing,  matters  still  went  on 
according  to  the  old  routine,  —  without  regularity,  without 
plan,  no  end  to  theft  and  fraud.  Many  hills  were  standing 
bare :  an  equal  growth  was  nowhere  to  be  found  but  in  the 
oldest  cuttings.  I  personally  visited  the  whole  of  them, 
with  an  experienced  forester.  I  got  the  woods  correctly 
measured :  I  set  men  to  hew,  to  sow,  to  plant ;  in  a  short 
time,  all  things  were  in  progress.  That  I  might  mount  more 
readily  on  horseback,  and  also  walk  on  foot  with  less  ob- 
struction, I  had  a  suit  of  men's  clothes  made  for  me  :  I  was 
present  in  many  places,  I  was  feared  in  all. 

"  Hearing  that  our  young  friends,  with  Lothario,  were 
purposing  to  have  another  hunt,  it  came  into  my  head,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  to  make  a  figure,  or,  that  I  may 
not  do  myself  injustice,  to  pass  in  the  eyes  of  this  noble 
gentleman  for  what  I  was.  I  put  on  my  men's  clothes,  took 
my  gun  upon  my  shoulder,  and  went  forward  with  our  hunt- 
ers, to  await  the  party  on  our  marches.  They  came  :  Lotha- 
rio did  not  know  me ;  a  nephew  of  the  lady  introduced 
me  to  him  as  a  clever  forester,  joked  about  my  youth,  and 
carried  on  his  jesting  in  my  praise,  till  at  last  Lothario 
recognized  me.  The  nephew  seconded  my  project,  as  if  we 
had  concocted  it  together.  He  circumstantially  and  grate- 
fully described  what  I  had  done  for  the  estates  of  his  aunt, 
and  consequently  for  himself. 

"  Lothario  listened  with  attention :  he  talked  with  me, 
inquired  concerning  all  particulars  of  the  estates  and  district. 
I,  of  course,  was  glad  to  have  such  an  opportunity  of  showing 
him  my  knowledge  :  I  stood  my  ordeal  veiy  well ;  I  submitted 
certain  projects  of  improvement  to  him,  which  he  sanctioned, 
telling  me  of  similar  examples,  and  strengthening  my  argu- 
ments by  the  connection  which  he  gave  them.  My  satisfac- 
tion grew  more  perfect  every  moment.  Happily,  however, 
1  merely  wished  that  he  should  be  acquainted  with  me,  not 
that  he  should  love  me.  We  came  home ;  and  I  observed, 
more  clearly  than  before,  that  the  attention  he  showed  Lydia 
seemed  expressive  of  a  secret  attachment.  I  had  reached 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  401 

my  object,  yet  I  was  not  at  rest :  from  that  day  he  showed 
a  true  respect  for  me,  a  fine  trust  in  me ;  in  company  he 
usually  spoke  to  me,  asked  my  opinion,  and  appeared  to  be 
persuaded,  that,  in  household  matters,  nothing  was  unknown 
to  me.  His  sympathy  excited  me  extremely  :  even  when  the 
conversation  was  of  general  finance  and  political  economy, 
he  used  to  lead  me  to  take  part  in  it ;  and,  in  his  absence,  I 
endeavored  to  acquire  more  knowledge  of  our  province,  nay, 
of  all  the  empire.  The  task  was  easy  for  me :  it  was  but 
repeating  on  the  great  scale  what  I  knew  so  accurately  011 
the  small. 

"  From  this  period  he  visited  our  house  oftener.  We 
talked,  I  may  say,  of  every  thing ;  yet  in  some  degree  our 
conversation  always  in  the  end  grew  economical,  if  even  but 
in  a  secondary  sense.  What  immense  effects  a  man,  by  the 
continuous  application  of  his  powers,  his  time,  his  money, 
even  by  means  which  seem  but  small,  may  bring  about,  was 
frequently  and  largely  spoken  of. 

"  I  did  not  withstand  the  tendency  which  drew  me  towards 
him  ;  and,  alas  !  I  felt  too  soon  how  deep,  how  cordial,  how 
pure  and  genuine,  was  my  love,  as  I  belie>ved  it  more  and 
more  apparent  that  L}'dia,  and  not  myself,  was  the  occasion 
of  these  visits.  She,  at  least,  was  most  vividly  persuaded 
so  :  she  made  me  her  confidant ;  and  this,  again,  in  some  de- 
gree, consoled  me.  For,  in  truth,  what  she  explained  so 
much  to  her  advantage,  I  reckoned  nowise  of  importance : 
there  was  not  a  trace  of  any  serious  lasting  union  being 
meditated,  but  the  more  distinctly  did  I  see  the  wish  of  the 
impassioned  girl  to  be  his  at  any  price. 

"  Thus  did  matters  stand,  when  the  lady  of  the  house  sur- 
prised me  with  an  unexpected  message.  'Lothario,'  said 
she,  '  offers  you.  his  hand,  and  desires  through  life  to  have 
you  ever  at  his  side.'  She  enlarged  upon  my  qualities,  and 
told  me,  what  I  liked  sufficiently  to  hear,  that  in  me  Lothario 
was  persuaded  he  had  found  the  person  whom  he  had  so  long 
been  seeking  for. 

"The  height  of  happiness  was  now  attained  for  me:  my 
hand  was  asked  by  a  man  for  whom  I  had  the  greatest  value, 
beside  whom,  and  along  with  whom,  I  might  expect  a  full, 
expanded,  free,  and  profitable  employment  of  my  inborn 
tendency,  of  my  talent  perfected  by  practice.  The  sum  of 
my  existence  seemed  to  have  enlarged  itself  into  infinitude. 
I  gave  my  consent :  he  himself  came,  and  spoke  with  me  in 
private ;  he  held  out  his  hand  to  me ;  he  looked  into  my 


402  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

eyes,  he  clasped  me  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  my 
lips.  It  was  the  first  and  the  last.  He  confided  to  me  all 
his  circumstances  ;  told  me  how  much  his  American  campaign 
had  cost  him,  what  debts  he  had  accumulated  on  his  property  ; 
that,  on  this  score,  he  had  in  some  measure  quarrelled  with 
his  grand-uncle ;  that  the  worthy  gentleman  intended  to  re- 
lieve him,  though  truly  in  his  own  peculiar  way,  being 
minded  to  provide  him  with  a  rich  wife,  whereas,  a  man  of 
sense  would  choose  a  household  wife,  at  all  events ;  that, 
however,  by  his  sister's  influence,  he  hoped  his  noble  rela- 
tive would  be  persuaded.  He  set  before  me  the  condition  of 
his  fortune,  his  plans,  his  prospects,  and  requested  my  co- 
operation. Till  his  uncle  should  consent,  our  promise  was 
to  be  a  secret. 

"  Scarcely  was  he  gone  when  Lydia  asked  me  whether  he 
had  spoken  of  her.  I  answered  no,  and  tired  her  with  a 
long  detail  of  economical  affairs.  She  was  restless,  out  of 
humor ;  and  his  conduct,  when  he  came  again,  did  not  im- 
prove her  situation. 

"But  the  sun,  I  see,  is  bending  to  the  place  of  rest. 
Well  for  you,  my  friend !  You  would  otherwise  have  had  to 
hear  this  story,  which  I  often  enough  go  over  by  myself ,  in 
all  its  most  minute  particulars.  Let  me  hasten  :  we  are  com- 
ing to  an  epoch  on  which  it  is  not  good  to  linger. 

"  By  Lothario  I  was  made  acquainted  with  his  noble  sis- 
ter ;  and  she,  at  a  convenient  time,  contrived  to  introduce  me 
to  the  uncle.  I  gained  the  old  man :  he  consented  to  our 
wishes,  and  I  returned  with  happy  tidings  to  my  benefac- 
tress. The  affair  was  now  no  secret  in  the  house :  Lydia 
heard  of  it;  she  thought  the  thing  impossible.  When  she 
could  no  longer  doubt  of  it,  she  vanished  all  at  once :  we 
knew  not  whither  she  had  gone. 

"  Our  marriage-day  was  coming  near :  I  had  often  asked 
him  for  his  portrait ;  just  as  he  was  going  off,  I  reminded 
him  that  he  had  promised  it.  He  said,  '  You  have  never 
given  me  the  case  you  want  to  have  it  fitted  into.'  This  was 
true :  I  had  got  a  present  from  a  female  friend,  on  which  I 
set  no  ordinary  value.  Her  name,  worked  from  her  own  hair, 
was  fastened  on  the  outer  glass  :  within,  there  was  a  vacant 
piece  of  ivory,  on  which  her  portrait  was  to  have  been 
painted,  when  a  sudden  death  snatched  her  from  me. 
Lothario's  love  had  cheered  me  at  the  time  her  death  lay 
heavy  on  my  spirits,  and  I  wished  to  have  the  void  which  she 
had  left  me  in  her  present  filled  by  the  picture  of  my  friend. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  403 

"  I  ran  to  my  chamber,  fetched  my  jewel-box,  and  opened 
it  in  his  presence.  Scarcely  had'  he  looked  into  it,  when  he 
noticed  a  medallion  with  the  portrait  of  a  lady.  He  took  it 
in  his  hand,  considered  it  attentively,  and  asked  me  hastily 
whose  face  it  was.  '  My  mother's,'  answered  I.  '  I  could 
have  sworn,'  said  he,  'that  it  was  the  portrait  of  a  Madame 
Saint  Alban,  whom  I  met  some  years  ago  in  Switzerland.'  — 
'  It  is  the  same,'  replied  I,  smiling,  '  and  so  you  have  un- 
wittingly become  acquainted  with  your  stepmother.  Saint 
Alban  is  the  name  my  mother  has  assumed  for  travelling 
with:  she  passes  under  it  in  France  at  present.' 

"• '  I  am  the  miserablest  man  alive  ! '  exclaimed  he,  as  he 
threw  the  portrait  back  into  the  box,  covered  his  eyes  with 
his  hand,  and  hurried  from  the  room.  He  sprang  on  horse- 
back :  I  ran  to  the  balcony,  and  called  out  after  him ;  he 
turned,  waved  his  hand  to  me,  went  speedily  away, — and  I 
have  never  seen  him  more." 

The  sun  went  down  :  Theresa  gazed  with  unaverted  looks 
upon  the  splendor,  and  both  her  fine  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Theresa  spoke  not:  she  laid  her  hand  upon  her  new 
friend's  hands ;  he  kissed  it  with  emotion :  she  dried  her 
tears,  and  rose.  "  Let  us  return,  and  see  that  all  is  right," 
said  she. 

The  conversation  was  not  lively  by  the  way.  They  en- 
tered the  garden-door,  and  noticed  Lydia  sitting  on  a  bench  : 
she  rose,  withdrew  before  them,  and  walked  in.  She  had  a 
paper  in  her  hand:  two  little  girls  were  by  her.  "  I  see," 
observed  Theresa,  "-she  is  still  carrying  her  only  comfort, 
Lothario's  letter,  with  her.  He  promises  that  she  shall  live 
with  him  again  so  soon  as  he  is  well :  he  begs  of  her  till 
then  to  stay  in  peace  with  me.  On  these  words  she  hangs, 
with  these  lines  she  solaces  herself ;  but  with  his  friends  she 
is  extremely  angry." 

Meanwhile  the  two  children  had  approached.  They  cour- 
tesied  to  Theresa,  and  gave  her  an  account  of  all  that  had 
occurred  while  she  was  absent.  "  You  see  here  another  part 
of  my  employment,"  said  Theresa.  "Lothario's  sister  and 
I  have  made  a  league :  we  educate  sonic  little  ones  in  com- 
mon ;  such  as  promise  to  be  lively,  serviceable  housewives  I 
take  charge  of,  she  of  such  as  show  a  finer  and  more  quiet 
talent :  it  is  right  to  provide  for  the  happiness  of  future  hus- 
bands, both  in  household  and  in  intellectual  matters.  When 
you  become  acquainted  with  my  noble  friend,  a  new  era  in 
your  life  will  open.  Her  beauty,  her  goodness,  make  her 


404  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

•worthy  of  the  reverence  of  the  world."  Wilhelm  did  not 
venture  to  confess,  that  unhappily  the  lovely  countess  was 
already  known  to  him ;  that  his  transient  connection  with 
her  would  occasion  him  perpetual  sorrow.  He  was  well 
pleased  that  Theresa  let  the  conversation  drop,  that  some 
business  called  for  her  within.  He  was  now  alone :  the  in- 
telligence which  he  had  just  received  of  the  3'oung  and 
lovely  countess  being  driven  to  replace,  by  deeds  of  benevo- 
lence, her  own  lost  comfort,  made  him  very  sad  ;  he  felt, 
that,  with  her,  it  was  but  a  need  of  self-oblivion,  an  attempt 
to  supply,  by  the  hopes  of  happiness  to  others,  the  want  of 
a  cheerful  enjoyment  of  existence  in  herself.  He  thought 
Theresa  happy,  since,  even  in  that  unexpected  melancholy 
alteration  which  had  taken  place  in  her  prospects,  there  was 
no  alteration  needed  in  herself.  "  How  fortunate  beyond  all 
others,"  cried  he,  "  is  the  man,  who,  in  order  to  adjust  himself 
to  fate,  is  not  required  to  cast  away  his  whole  preceding  life  !  " 

Theresa  came  into  his  room,  and  begged  pardon  for  dis- 
turbing him.  "My  whole  library,"  said  she,  "is  in  the 
wall-press  here :  they  are  rather  books  which  I  do  not  throw 
aside,  than  which  I  have  taken  up.  Lydia  wants  a  pious 
book :  there  are  one  or  two  of  that  sort  among  them.  Per- 
sons who  throughout  the  whole  twelve  months  are  worldly, 
think  it  necessary  to  be  godly  at  a  time  of  straits  :  all  moral 
and  religious  matters  they  regard  as  physic,  which  is  to  be 
taken  with  aversion  when  they  are  unwell ;  in  a  clergyman, 
a  moralist,  they  see  nothing  but  a  doctor,  whom  they  cannot 
soon  enough  get  rid  of.  Now,  I  confess,  I  look. upon  reli- 
gion as  a  kind  of  diet,  which  can  only  be  so  when  I  make  a 
constant  practice  of  it,  when  throughout  the  whole  twelve 
mouths  I  never  lose  it  out  of  sight." 

She  searched  among  the  books :  she  found  some  edifying 
works,  as  they  are  called.  "It  was  of  my  mother,"  said 
Theresa,  "  that  poor  Lydia  learned  to  have  recourse  to 
books  like  these.  While  her  gallant  continued  faithful, 
plays  and  novels  were  her  life :  his  departure  brought  re- 
ligious writings  once  more  into  credit.  I,  for  my  share, 
cannot  understand,"  continued  she,  "bowmen  have  made 
themselves  believe  that  God  speaks  to  us  through  books  and 
histories.  The  man  to  whom  the  universe  does  not  reveal 
directly  what  relation  it  has  to  him,  whose  heart  does  not 
tell  him  what  he  owes  to  himself  and  others,  that  man  will 
scarcely  learn  it  out  of  books,  which  generally  do  little  more 
than  give  our  errors  names." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  405 

She  left  our  friend  alone  :  he  passed  his  evening  in  exam- 
ining the  little  library ;  it  had,  in  truth,  been  gathered  quite 
at  random. 

Theresa,  for  the  few  days  Wilhelm  spent  with  her,  con- 
tinued still  the  same :  she  related  to  him  at  different  times 
the  consequences  of  that  singular  incident  with  great  minute- 
ness. Day  and  hour,  place  and  name,  were  present  to  her 
memory :  we  shall  here  compress  into  a  word  or  two  so 
much  of  it  as  will  be  necessary  for  the  information  of  our 
readers. 

The  reason  of  Lothario's  quick  departure  was,  unhappily, 
too  easy  to  explain.  He  had  met  Theresa's  mother  on  her 
journey :  her  charms  attracted  him ;  she  was  no  niggard  of 
them  ;  and  this  luckless  transitory  aberration  came  at  length 
to  shut  him  out  from  being .  united  to  a  lady  whom  nature 
seemed  to  have  expressly  made  for  him.  As  for  Theresa, 
she  continued  in  the  pure  circle  of  her  duties.  They  learned 
that  Lydia  had  been  living  in  the  neighborhood  in  secret. 
She  was  happy  that  the  marriage,  though  for  unknown 
causes,  had  not  been  completed.  She  endeavored  to  renew 
her  intimacy  with  Lothario ;  and  more,  as  it  seemed,  out  of 
desperation  than  affection,  by  surprise  than  with  considera- 
tion, from  tedium  than  of  purpose,  he  had  met  her  wishes. 

Theresa  was  not  uneasy  on  this  account ;  she  waived  all 
further  claims ;  and,  if  he  had  even  been  her  husband,  she 
would  probably  have  had  sufficient  spirit  to  endure  a  matter 
of  this  kind,  if  it  had  not  troubled  her  domestic  order :  at 
least,  she  often  used  to  say,  that  a  wife  who  properly  con- 
ducted her  economy  should  take  no  umbrage  at  such  little 
fancies  of  her  husband,  but  be  always  certain  that  he  would 
return. 

Erelong  Theresa's  mother  had  deranged  her  fortune :  the 
losses  fell  upon  the  daughter,  whose  share  of  the  effects,  in 
consequence,  was  small.  The  old  lady,  who  had  been  The- 
resa's benefactress,  died,  leaving  her  a  little  property  in  land, 
and  a  handsome  sum  by  way  of  legacy.  Theresa  soon  con- 
trived to  make  herself  at  home  in  this  new,  narrow  circle. 
Lothario  offered  her  a  better  property,  Jarno  endeavoring  to 
negotiate  the  business  ;  but  she  refused  it.  "I  will  show," 
said  she,  "  in  this  little,  that  I  deserved  to  share  the  great 
with  him ;  but  I  keep  this  before  me,  that,  should  accident 
embarrass  me,  on  my  own  account  or  that  of  others,  I  will 
betake  myself  without  the  smallest  hesitation  to  my  generous 
friend." 


406  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

There  is  nothing  less  liable  to  be  concealed  and  unem- 
ployed than  well-directed  practical  activity.  Scarcely  had 
she  settled  in  her  little  property,  when  her  acquaintance  and 
advice  began  to  be  desired  by  many  of  her  neighbors ;  and 
the  proprietor  of  the  adjacent  lands  gave  her  plainly  enough 
to  understand  that  it  depended  on  herself  alone  whether  she 
would  take  his  hand,  and  be  heiress  of  the  greater  part  of 
his  estates.  She  had  already  mentioned  the  matter  to  our 
friend :  she  often  jested  with  him  about  marriages,  suitable 
and  unsuitable. 

"  Nothing,"  said  she  once,  "  gives  a  greater  loose  to  peo- 
ple's tongues  than  when  a  marriage  happens  which  they  can 
denominate  unsuitable  :  and  yet  the  unsuitable  are  far  more 
common  than  the  suitable ;  for,  alas !  with  most  marriages, 
it  is  not  long  till  things  assume  a  very  piteous  look.  The 
confusion  of  ranks  by  marriage  can  be  called  unsuitable 
only  when  the  one  party  is  unable  to  participate  in  the 
manner  of  existence  which  is  native,  habitual,  and  which  at 
length  grows  absolutely  necessary,  to  the  other.  The  differ- 
ent classes  have  different  ways  of  living,  which  they  cannot 
change  or  communicate  to  one  another ;  and  this  is  the  rea- 
son why  connections  such  as  these,  in  general,  were  better 
not  be  formed.  Yet  exceptions,  and  exceptions  of  the 
happiest  kind,  are  possible.  Thus,  too,  the  marriage  of  a 
young  woman  with  a  man  advanced  in  life  is  generally  un- 
suitable ;  yet  I  have  seen  some  such  turn  out  extremely  well. 
For  me,  I  know  but  of  one  kind  of  marriage  that  would  be 
entirely  unsuitable,  — that  in  which  I  should  be  called  upon 
to  make  a  show,  and  manage  ceremonies  :  I  would  rather  give 
my  hand  to  the  son  of  any  honest  farmer  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

Wilhelm  at  length  made  ready  for  returning.  He  re- 
quested of  Theresa  to  obtain  for  him  a  parting  word  with 
Lydia.  The  impassioned  girl  at  last  consented:  he  said 
some  kindly  things  to  her,  to  which  she  answered,  "The 
first  burst  of  anguish  I  have  conquered.  Lothario  will  be 
ever  dear  to  me :  but  for  those  friends  of  his,  I  know  them  ; 
and  it  grieves  me  that  they  are  about  him.  The  abbe",  for 
a  whim's  sake,  could  leave  a  person  in  extreme  need,  or  even 
plunge  one  into  it ;  the  doctor  would  have  all  things  go  on 
like  clock-work  ;  Jarno  has  no  heart ;  and  you  —  at  least  no 
force  of  character !  Just  go  on :  let  these  three  people  use 
you  as  their  tool ;  they  will  have  many  an  execution  to  com- 
mit to  you.  For  a  long  time,  as  I  know  well,  my  presence 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  407 

has  been  hateful  to  them.  I  had  not  found  out  their  secret, 
but  I  had  observed  that  they  had  one.  Why  these  bolted 
rooms,  these  strange  passages?  Why  can  no  one  ever  reach 
the  central  tower?  Why  did  they  banish  me,  whenever  they 
could,  to  my  own  chamber?  I  will  confess,  jealousy  at  first 
incited  me  to  these  discoveries :  I  feared  some  lucky  rival 
might  be  hid  there.  I  have  now  laid  aside  that  suspicion  :  I 
am  well  convinced  that  Lothario  loves  me,  that  he  means 
honorably  by  me  ;  but  I  am  quite  as  well  convinced  that  his 
false  and  artful  friends  betray  him.  If  you  would  really  do 
him  service,  if  you  would  ever  be  forgiven  for  the  injury 
which  I  have  suffered  from  you,  free  him  from  the  hands  of 
these  men.  But  what  am  I  expecting !  Give  this  letter  to 
him  ;  repeat  what  it  contains,  —  that  I  will  love  him  forever, 
that  I  depend  upon  his  word.  Ah!  "  cried  she,  rising,  and 
throwing  herself  with  tears  upon  Theresa's  neck:  Vbhe  is 
surrounded  by  my  foes ;  they  will  endeavor  to  persuade  him 
that  I  have  sacrificed  nothing  for  his  sake.  Oh !  Lothario 
may  well  believe  that  he  is  worthy  of  any  sacrifice,  without 
needing  to  be  grateful  for  it." 

Wilhelm's  parting  with  Theresa  was  more  cheerful :  she 
wished  they  might  soon  meet  again.  "Me  you  wholly 
know,"  said  she  :  "  I  alone  have  talked  while  we  have  been 
together.  It  will  be  your  duty,  next  time,  to  repay  my 
candor." 

During  his  return  he  kept  contemplating  this  new  and 
bright  phenomenon  with  the  liveliest  recollection.  What 
confidence  had  she  inspired  him  with.  He  thought  of  Mig- 
non  and  Felix,  and  how  happy  they  might  be  if  under  her 
direction ;  then  he  thought  of  himself,  and  felt  what  pleas- 
ure it  would  be  to  live  beside  a  being  so  entirely  serene  and 
clear.  As  he  approached  Lothario's  castle,  he  observed, 
with  more  than  usual  interest,  the  central  tower  and  the 
many  passages  and  side-buildings :  he  resolved  to  question 
Jarno  or  the  abb6  on  the  subject,  by  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ON  arriving  at  the  castle,  Wilhelm  found  its  noble  owner 
in  the  way  of   full  recovery :  the  doctor  and  the  abbe"  had 


408  iMEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

gone  off ;  Jarno  alone  was  there.  It  was  not  long  till  the 
patient  now  and  then  could  ride,  sometimes  by  himself, 
sometimes  with  his  friends.  His  conversation  was  at  once 
courteous  and  earnest,  instructive  and  enlivening :  you  could 
often  notice  in  it  traces  of  a  tender  sensibility  ;  although  he 
strove  to  hide  it,  and  almost  seemed  to  blame  it,  when,  in 
spite  of  him,  it  came  to  view. 

One  evening  while  at  table  he  was  silent,  though  his  look 
was  very  cheerful. 

"To-day,"  said  Jarno,  "you  have  met  with  an  adven- 
ture; and,  no  doubt,  you  relished  it." 

"I  give  you  credit  for  your  penetration,"  said  Lothario. 
"  Yes,  I  have  met  with  a  very  pleasing  adventure.  At  an- 
other time,  perhaps,  I  should  not  have  considered  it  so 
chamiing  as  to-day,  when  it  came  upon  me  so  attractively. 
Towards  night  I  rode  out  beyond  the  river,  through  the 
hamlets,  by  a  path  which  I  had  often  visited  in  former  years. 
My  bodily  ailings  must  have  reduced  me  more  than  I  sup- 
posed :  I  felt  weak  ;  but,  as  my  strength  was  re-awakening,  I 
was,  as  it  were,  new-bom.  All  objects  seemed  to  wear  the 
hues  they  had  in  earlier  times :  all  looked  graceful,  lovejy, 
charming,  as  they  have  not  looked  to  me  for  many  years.  I 
easily  observed  that  it  was  mere  debility,  yet  I  continued  to 
enjoy  it :  I  rode  softly  onwards,  and  could  now  conceive 
how  men  may  grow  to  like  diseases  which  attune  us  to  those 
sweet  emotions.  You  know,  perhaps,  what  used  of  old  so 
frequently  to  lead  me  that  way  ?  " 

"  If  I  mistake  not,"  answered  Jarno,  "  it  was  a  little  love- 
concern  you  were  engaged  in  with  a  farmer's  daughter." 

"  It  might  be  called  a  great  one,"  said  Lothario ;  "  for  we 
loved  each  other  deeply,  seriously,  and  for  a  long  time. 
To-day,  it  happened,  every  thing  combined  to  represent  be- 
fore me  in  its  liveliest  color  the  earliest  season  of  our  love. 
The  boys  were  again  shaking  may-bugs  from  the  trees  :  the 
ashen  grove  had  not  grown  larger  since  the  day  I  saw  her 
first.  It  was  now  long  since  I  had  met  with  Margaret.  She 
is  married  at  a  distance  ;  and  I  had  heard  by  chance  that  she 
was  come  with  her  children,  some  weeks  ago,  to  pay  a  visit 
to  her  father." 

"  This  ride,  then,  was  not  altogether  accidental?  " 

"I  will  not  deny,"  replied  Lothario,  "that  I  wished  to 
meet  her.  On  coming  near  the  house,  I  saw  her  father  sit- 
ting at  the  door :  a  child  of  probably  a  year  old  was  standing 
by  him.  As  I  approached,  a  female  gave  a  hasty  look  from 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  409 

an  upper  window ;  and  a  minute  afterwards  I  heard  some 
person  tripping  down-stairs.  I  thought  surely  it  was  she ; 
and,  I  will  confess,  I  was  flattering  myself  that  she  had 
recognized  me,  and  was  hastening  to  meet  me.  But  what 
was  my  surprise  and  disappointment,  when  she  bounded  from 
the  door,  seized  the  child,  to  whom  the  horses  had  come 
pretty  close,  and  took  it  in !  It  gave  me  a  painful  twinge  : 
my  vanity,  however,  was  a  little  solaced  when  I  thought  I 
saw  a  tint  of  redness  on  her  neck  and  on  the  ear,  which  were 
uncovered. 

k'  I  drew  up,  and,  while  speaking  with  the  father,  glanced 
sideways  over  all  the  windows,  to  observe  if  she  would  not 
appear  at  some  of  them ;  but  no  trace  of  her  was  visible. 
Ask  I  would  not,  so  I  rode  away.  My  displeasure  was  a 
little  mollified  by  wonder ;  though  I  had  not  seen  the  face,  it 
appeared  to  me  that  she  was  scarcely  changed  ;  and  ten  years 
are  a  pretty  space !  Nay,  she  looked  even  younger,  quite  as 
slim,  as  light  of  foot ;  her  neck,  if  possible,  was  lovelier 
than  before  ;  her  cheeks  as  quick  at  blushing ;  yet  she  was 
the  mother  of  six  children,  perhaps  of  more.  This  appari- 
tion suited  the  enchantment  which  surrounded  me  so  well, 
that  I  rode  along  with  feelings  grown  still  younger ;  and  I 
did  not  turn  till  I  was  at  the  forest,  when  the  sun  was  going 
down.  Strongly  as  the  falling  dew  and  the  prescription  of 
our  doctor  called  upon  me  to  proceed  direct  homewards,  I 
could  not  help  again  going  round  by  the  farmhouse.  I  ob- 
served a  woman  walking  up  and  down  the  garden,  which  is 
fenced  by  a  light  hedge.  I  rode  along  the  footpath  to  it,  and 
found  myself  at  no  great  distance  from  the  person  whom  I 
wanted. 

"  Though  the  evening  sun  was  glancing  in  my  eyes,  I  saw 
that  she  was  busy  with  the  hedge,  which  only  slightly  cov- 
ered her.  I  thought  I  recognized  my  mistress.  On  coming 
up,  I  halted,  not  without  a  palpitation  at  the  heart.  Some 
high  twigs  of  wild  roses,  which  a  soft  air  was  blowing  to  and 
fro,  made  her  figure  indistinct  to  me.  I  spoke  to  her,  asked 
her  how  she  was.  She  answered,  in  an  under-tone,  '  Quite 
well.'  In  the  mean  time  I  perceived  a  child  behind  the  hedge, 
engaged  in  plucking  roses ;  and  I  took  the  opportunity  of 
asking  where  her  other  children  were.  '  It  is  not  my  child,' 
said  she  :  k  that  were  rather  early  ! '  And  at  this  moment  it 
happened  that  the  twigs  were  blown  aside,  and  her  face  could 
be  distinctly  seen.  I  knew  not  what  to  make  of  the  affair. 
It  was  my  mistress,  and  it  was  not.  Almost  younger,  almost 


410  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

lovelier,  than  she  used  to  be  ten  years  before.  *  Are  not  you 
the  farmer's  daughter?'  inquired  I,  half  confused.  'No,' 
said  she  :  '  I  am  her  cousin.' 

"  '  You  resemble  one  another  wonderfully,'  added  I. 

"  *  Yes,  so  says  every  one  that  knew  her  half  a  score  of 
years  ago.' 

"I  continued  putting  various  questions  to  her:  my  mis- 
take was  pleasant  to  me,  even  after  I  had  found  it  out.  I 
could  not  leave  this  living  image  of  by-gone  blessedness  that 
stood  before  me.  The  child,  meanwhile,  had  gone  away :  it 
had  wandered  to  the  pond  in  search  of  flowers.  She  took 
her  leave,  and  hastened  after  it. 

"  I  had  now,  however,  learned  that  my  former  love  was 
really  in  her  father's  house.  While  riding  forward,  I  em- 
ployed myself  in  guessing  whether  it  had  been  her  cousin  or 
she  that  had  secured  the  child  from  harm.  I  more  than  once, 
in  thought,  repeated  all  the  circumstances  of  the  incident : 
I  can  remember  few  things  that  have  affected  me  more  grate- 
fully. But  I  feel  that  I  am  still  unwell :  we  must  ask  the 
doctor  to  deliver  us  from  the  remains  of  this  pathetic  humor." 

With  confidential  narratives  of  pretty  love  adventures,  it 
often  happens  as  with  ghost  stories :  when  the  first  is  told, 
the  others  follow  of  themselves. 

Our  little  party,  in  recalling  other  times,  found  numerous 
passages  of  this  description.  Lothario  had  the  most  to  tell. 
Jarno's  histories  were  all  of  one  peculiar  character:  what 
Wilhelm  could  disclose  we  already  know.  He  was  appre- 
hensive they  might  mention  his  adventure  with  the  countess  ; 
but  it  was  not  hinted  at,  not  even  in  the  remotest  manner. 

"  It  is  true,"  observed  Lothario,  "  there  can  scarcely  any 
feeling  in  the  world  be  more  agreeable  than  when  the  heart, 
after  a  pause  of  indifference,  again  opens  to  love  for  some 
new  object ;  yet  I  would  forever  have  renounced  that  happi- 
ness, had  fate  been  pleased  to  unite  me  with  Theresa.  We 
are  not  always  youths  :  we  ought  not  always  to  be  children. 
To  the  man  who  knows  the  world,  who  understands  what  he 
should  do  in  it,  what  he  should  hope  from  it,  nothing  can  be 
more  desirable  than  meeting  with  a  wife  who  will  everywhere 
co-operate  with  him,  who  will  everywhere  prepare  his  way  for 
him' ;  whose  diligence  takes  up  what  his  must  leave  ;  whose 
occupation  spreads  itself  on  every  side,  while  his  must  travel 
forward  on  its  single  path.  What  a  heaven  had  I  figured  for 
myself  beside  Theresa !  Not  the  heaven  of  an  enthusiastic 
bliss,  but  of  a  sure  life  on  earth  ;  order  in  prosperity,  courage 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  411 

in  adversity,  care  for  the  smallest,  and  a  spirit  capable  of 
comprehending  and  managing  the  greatest.  Oh  !  I  saw  in 
her  the  qualities  which,  when  developed,  make  such  women 
as  we  find  in  history,  whose  excellence  appears  to  us  far 
preferable  to  that  of  men, — this  clearness  of  view,  this  ex- 
pertness  in  all  emergencies,  this  sureness  in  details,  which 
brings  the  whole  so  accurately  out,  although  they  never  seem 
to  think  of  it.  You  may  well  forgive  me,"  added  he,  and 
turning  to  Wilhelm,  with  a  smile,  "  that  I  forsook  Aurelia 
for  Theresa :  with  the  one  I  could  expect  a  calm  and  cheer- 
ful life,  with  the  other  not  a  happy  hour." 

"  I  will  confess,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that,  in  coming  hither, 
I  had  no  small  anger  in  my  heart  against  you  ;  that  I  pro- 
posed to  censure  with  severity  your  conduct  to  Au- 
relia." 

"  It  was  really  censurable,"  said  Lothario  :  "  I  should  not 
have  exchanged  my  friendship  for  her  with  the  sentiment  of 
love  ;  I  should  not,  in  place  of  the  respect  which  she  deserved, 
have  intruded  an  attachment  she  was  neither  calculated  to 
excite  nor  to  maintain.  Alas  !  she  was  not  lovely  when  she 
loved,  —  the  greatest  misery  that  can  befall  a  woman." 

"Well,  it  is  past!  "  said  Wilhelm.  "We  cannot  always 
shun  the  things  we  blame ;  in  spite  of  us,  our  feelings  and 
our  actions  sometimes  strangely  swerve  from  their  natural 
and  right  direction ;  yet  there  are  certain  duties  which  we 
never  should  lose  sight  of.  Peace  be  to  the  ashes  of  our 
friend !  Without  censuring  ourselves  or  her,  let  us  with 
sympathizing  hearts  strew  flowers  upon  her  grave.  But,  at 
the  grave  in  which  the  hapless  mother  sleeps,  let  me  ask  why 
you  acknowledge  not  the  child,  —  a  son  whom  any  father 
might  rejoice  in,  and  whom  you  appear  entirely  to  overlook? 
With  your  pure  and  tender  nature,  how  can  you  altogether 
cast  away  the  instinct  of  a  parent?  All  this  while  you  have 
not  spent  one  syllable  upon  that  precious  creature,  of  whose 
attractions  I  could  say  so  much." 

"  Whom  do  you  speak  of  ?  "  asked  Lothario  :  "  I  do  not 
understand  you." 

"  Of  whom  but  of  your  son,  Aurelia's  son,  the  lovely  child, 
to  whose  good  fortune  there  is  nothing  wanting,  but  that  a 
tender  father  should  acknowledge  and  receive  him." 

"  You  mistake,  my  friend  !  "  exclaimed  Lothario  ;  "  Au- 
relia never  had  a  son,  at  least  by  me  :  I  know  of  no  child,  or 
I  would  with  joy  acknowledge  it ;  and,  even  in  the  present 
case,  I  will  gladly  look  upon  the  little  creature  as  a  relic  of 


412  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

her,  and  take  charge  of  educating  it.  But  did  she  ever  give 
you  to  believe  that  the  boy  was  hers,  was  mine?  " 

"  I  cannot  recollect  that  I  ever  heard  a  word  from  her  ex- 
pressly on  the  subject ;  but  we  took  it  up  so,  and  I  never  for 
a  moment  doubted  it." 

"  I  can  give  you  something  like  a  clew  to  this  perplexity," 
said  Jarno.  "  An  old  woman,  whom  you  must  have  noticed 
often,  gave  Aurelia  the  child:  she  accepted  it  with  passion, 
hoping  to  alleviate  her  sorrows  by  its  presence  ;  and,  in  truth, 
it  gave  her  many  a  comfortable  hour." 

This  discovery  awoke  anxieties  in  Wilhelm  :  he  thought  of 
his  dear  Mignon  and  his  beautiful  Felix  with  the  liveliest  dis- 
tinctness. He  expressed  his  wish  to  remove  them  both  from 
the  state  in  which  they  were. 

"  We  shall  soon  arrange  it,"  said  Lothario.  "The  little 
girl  may  be  committed  to  Theresa :  she  cannot  be  in  better 
hands.  As  for  the  boy,  I  think  you  should  yourself  take 
charge  of  him :  what  in  us  the  women  leave  uncultivated, 
children  cultivate  when  we  retain  them  near  us." 

"  But  first,  I  think,"  said  Jarno,  "  you  will  once  for  all  re- 
nounce the  stage,  as  you  have  no  talent  for  it." 

Our  friend  was  struck :  he  had  to  curb  himself,  for  Jarno's 
harsh  sentence  had  not  a  little  wounded  his  self-love.  "•  If 
you  convince  me  of  that,"  replied  he,  forcing  a  smile,  u  you 
will  do  me  a  service,  though  it  is  but  a  mournful  service  to 
rouse  one  from  a  pleasing  dream." 

"  Without  enlarging  on  the  subject,"  answered  Jarno,  "  I 
could  merely  wish  you  would  go  and  fetch  the  children.  The 
rest  will  come  in  course." 

"  I  am  ready,"  answered  Wilhelm :  "  I  am  restless,  and 
curious  to  see  if  I  can  get  no  further  knowledge  of  the  boy : 
I  long  to  see  the  little  girl  who  has  attached  herself  so 
strangely  to  me." 

It  was  agreed  that  he  should  lose  no  time  in  setting  out. 
Next  day  he  had  prepared  himself :  his  horse  was  saddled ; 
he  only  waited  for  Lothario  to  take  leave  of  him.  At  the 
dinner-hour  they  went  as  usual  to  table,  not  waiting  for 
the  master  of  the  house.  He  did  not  come  till  late,  and 
then  sat  down  by  them. 

"  I  could  bet,"  said  Jarno,  "  that  to-day  you  have  again 
been  making  trial  of  your  tenderness  of  heart :  }'ou  have  not 
been  able  to  withstand  the  curiosity  to  see  your  quondam 
love." 

"  Guessed !  "  replied  Lothario. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  413 

"Let  us  hear,"  said  Jarno,  "how  it  went:  I  long  to 
know." 

"  I  confess,"  replied  Lothario,  "  the  affair  lay  nearer  my 
heart  than  it  reasonably  ought :  so  I  formed  the  resolution  of 
again  riding  out,  and  actually  seeing  the  person  whose  re- 
newed young  image  had  affected  me  with  such  a  pleasing 
illusion.  I  alighted  at  some  distance  from  the  house,  and 
sent  the  horses  to  a  side,  that  the  children,  who  were  playing 
at  the  door,  might  not  be  disturbed.  I  entered  the  house : 
by  chance  she  met  me  just  within  the  threshold ;  it  was  her- 
self; and  I  recognized  her,  notwithstanding  the  striking 
change.  She  had  grown  stouter,  and  seemed  to  be  larger ; 
her  gracefulness  was  shaded  by  a  look  of  staidness ;  her 
vivacity  had  passed  into  a  calm  reflectiveness.  Her  head, 
which  she  once  bore  so  airily  and  freely,  drooped  a  little : 
slight  furrows  had  been  traced  upon  her  brow. 

"  She  cast  down  her  eyes  on  seeing  me,  but  no  blush 
announced  any  inward  movement  of  the  heart.  I  held  out 
my  hand  to  her,  she  gave  me  hers ;  I  inquired  about  her 
husband,  he  was  absent ;  about  her  children,  she  stepped  out 
and  called  them  ;  all  came  in  and  gathered  round  her.  Noth- 
ing is  more  charming  than  to  see  a  mother  with  a  child  upon 
her  arm ;  nothing  is  more  reverend  than  a  mother  among 
many  children.  That  I  might  say  something,  I  asked  the 
name  of  the  youngest.  She  desired  me  to  walk  in  and  see 
her  father  ;  I  agreed ;  she  introduced  me  to  the  room,  where 
every  thing  was  standing  almost  just  as  I  had  left  it ;  and, 
what  seemed  stranger  still,  the  fair  cousin,  her  living  image, 
was  sitting  on  the  very  seat  behind  the  spinning-wheel, 
where  I  had  found  my  love  so  often  in  the  self -same  form. 
A  little  girl,  the  very  figure  of  her  mother,  had  come  after 
us ;  and  thus  I  stood  in  the  most  curious  scene,  between 
the  future  and  the  past,  as  in  a  grove  of  oranges,  where 
within  a  little  circle  flowers  and  fruits  are  living,  in  succes- 
sive stages  of  their  growth,  beside  each  other.  The  cousin 
went  away  to  fetch  us  some  refreshment :  I  gave  the  woman 
I  had  loved  so  much  my  hand,  and  said  to  her,  '  I  feel  a  true 
joy  in  seeing  you  again.'  — '  You  are  very  good  to  say  so,' 
answered  ;  she  '  but  I  also  can  assure  you  I  feel  the  highest 
joy.  How  often  have  I  wished  to  see  you  once  more  in  my 
life  !  I  have  wished  it  in  moments  which  I  regarded  as  my 
last.'  She  said  this  with  a  settled  voice,  without  appearance 
of  emotion,  with  that  natural  air  which  of  old  delighted  me 
so  much.  The  cousin  returned,  the  father  with  her ;  and  I 


414  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

leave  .you  to  conceive  with  what  feelings  I   remained,  and 
with  what  I  came  away." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

IN  his  journey  to  the  town,  our  friend  was  thinking  of  the 
lovely  women  whom  he  knew  or  had  heard  of :  their  curious 
fortunes,  which  contained  so  little  happiness,  were  present  to 
him  with  a  sad  distinctness.  "  Ah  !  "  cried  he,  "  poor  Ma- 
riana !  What  shall  I  yet  learn  of  thee  ?  And  thou,  noble 
Amazon,  glorious,  protecting  spirit,  to  whom  I  owe  so  much, 
whom  I  everywhere  expect  to  meet,  and  nowhere  see,  in  what 
mournful  circumstances  may  I  find  thee,  shouldst  thou  again 
appear  before  me  ! ' ' 

On  his  arrival  in  the  town,  there  was  not  one  of  his 
acquaintances  at  home  :  he  hastened  to  the  theatre  ;  he  sup- 
posed they  would  be  rehearsing.  Here,  however,  all  was  still ; 
the  house  seemed  empty :  one  little  door  alone  was  open. 
Passing  through  it  to  the  stage,  he  found  Aurelia's  ancient 
serving-maid,  employed  in  sewing  linen  for  a  new  decora- 
tion :  there  was  barely  light  enough  to  let  her  work.  Felix 
and  Mignon  were  sitting  by  her  on  the  floor :  they  had  a 
book  between  them ;  and,  while  Mignon  read  aloud,  Felix 
was  repeating  all  the  words,  as  if  he,  too,  knew  his  letters, — 
as  if  he,  too,  could  read. 

The  children  started  up,  and  ran  to  him :  he  embraced 
them  with  the  tenderest  feelings,  and  brought  them  closer  to 
the  woman.  "  Art  thou  the  person,"  said  he  to  her  with  an 
earnest  voice,  "from  whom  Aurelia  received  this  child?" 
She  looked  up  from  her  work,  and  turned  her  face  to  him : 
he  saw  her  in  full  light ;  he  started  back  in  terror,  —  it  was 
old  Barbara. 

"  Where  is  Mariana?  "  cried  he.  "Far  from  here,"  re- 
plied the  crone. 

"  And  Felix  "  — 

"Is  the  son  of  that  unhappy  and  too  true  and  tender- 
hearted girl.  May  you  never  feel  what  you  have  made  ils 
suffer !  May  the  treasure  which  I  now  deliver  you  make  you 
as  happy  as  he  made  us  wretched  !  " 

She  arose  to  go  away  :  Wilhelm  held  her  fast.     "  I  mean 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  415 

not  to  escape  you,"  said  she:  "let  me  fetch  a  paper  that 
will  make  you  glad  and  sorrowful." 

She  retired,  and  Wilhelm  gazed  upon  the  child  with  a 
painful  joy:  he  durst  not  reckon  him  his  own.  "He  is 
thine  !  "  cried  Mignon,  "he  is  thine  !  "  and  passed  the  child 
to  Wilhelm's  knee. 

Barbara  came  back,  and  handed  him  a  letter.  "  Here  are 
Mariana's  last  words,"  said  she. 

"  She  is  dead  !  "  cried  he. 

11  Dead,"  said  the  old  woman.  "  I  wish  to  spare  you  all 
reproaches." 

Astonished  and  confounded,  Wilhelm  broke  up  the  letter ; 
but  scarcely  had  he  read  the  first  words  of  it  when  a  bitter 
grief  took  hold  of  him  :  he  let  the  letter  fall,  and  sank  upon 
a  seat.  Mignou  hurried  to  him,  trying  to  console  him.  In 
the  mean  time  Felix  had  picked  up  the  letter :  he  teased  his 
playmate  till  she  yielded,  till  she  knelt  beside  him  and  read 
it  over.  Felix  repeated  the  words,  and  Wilhelm  was  com- 
pelled to  hear  them  twice.  "  If  this  sheet  should  ever  reach 
thee,  then  lament  thy  ill-starred  friend.  Thy  love  has  caused 
her  death.  The  boy,  whose  birth  I  survive  but  a  few  days, 
is  thine  :  I  die  faithful  to  thee,  much  as  appearances  may  be 
against  me ;  with  thee  I  lost  every  thing  that  bound  me  to 
life.  I  die  content,  for  they  have  assured  me  that  the  child 
is  healthy  and  will  live.  Listen  to  old  Barbara ;  forgive  her : 
farewell,  and  forget  me  not." 

What  a  painful,  and  yet,  to  his  comfort,  half  enigmatic  let- 
ter !  Its  contents  pierced  through  his  heart,  as  the  children, 
stuttering  and  stammering,  pronounced  and  repeated  them. 

"  That's  what  has  come  of  it !  "  said  the  crone,  not  wait- 
ing till  he  had  recovered.  "  Thank  Heaven,  that,  having 
lost  so  true  a  love,  you  have  still  left  you  so  fine  a  child. 
Your  grief  will  be  unequalled  when  you  learn  how  the  poor, 
good  girl  stood  faithful  to  you  to  the  end,  how  miserable  she 
became,  and  what  she  sacrificed  for  your  sake." 

"  Let  me  drain  the  cup  of  sorrow  and  of  joy  at  once !  " 
cried  Wilhelm.  "  Convince  me,  even  persuade  me,  that  she 
was  a  good  girl,  that  she  deserved  respect  as  well  as  love : 
then  leave  me  to  my  grief  for  her  irreparable  loss." 

"  It  is  not  yet  time,"  said  Barbara  :  "  I  have  work  to  do, 
and  I  would  not  we  were  seen  together.  Let  it  be  a  secret 
that  Felix  is  your  son :  I  should  have  too  much  abuse  to 
suffer  from  the  company,  for  having  formerly  deceived  them. 
Mignon  will  not  betra}-  us :  she  is  good  and  close." 


416  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  I  have  known  it  long,  and  I  said  nothing,"  answered  Mig- 
non.  "  How  is  it  possible?  "  cried  Barbara.  "  Whence?  " 
cried  Wilhelm. 

"  The  spirit  told  it  me." 

"Where?  Where?" 

"In  the  vault,  when  the  old  man  drew  his  knife,  it  called 
to  me,  '  Bring  his  father ; '  and  I  thought  it  must  be  thou." 

"  WJio  called  to  thee?" 

"  I  know  not :  in  my  heart,  in  my  head,  I  was  terrified  ;  I 
trembled,  I  prayed ;  then  it  called,  and  I  understood  it." 

Wilhelm  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  recommended  Felix  to 
her,  and  retired.  He  had  not  observed  till  then  that  she 
was  grown  much  paler  and  thinner  than  when  he  left  her. 
Madam  Melina  was  the  first  acquaintance  he  met:  she  re- 
ceived him  in  the  friendliest  manner.  Oh  that  you  might  find 
every  thing  among  us  as  you  wished !  "  exclaimed  she. 

"I  doubt  it,"  answered  Wilhelm:  "  I  do  not  expect  it. 
Confess  that  they  have  taken  all  their  measures  to  dispense 
with  me." 

"  Why  would  you  go  away?  "  replied  his  friend. 

"We  cannot  soon  enough  convince  ourselves,"  said  he, 
"  how  very  simply  we  may  be  dispensed  with  in  the  world. 
What  important  personages  we  conceive  ourselves  to  be ! 
We  think  that  it  is  we  alone  who  animate  the  circle  we  move 
in ;  that,  in  our  absence,  life,  nourishment,  and  breath  will 
make  a  general  pause :  and,  alas  !  the  void  which  occurs  is 
scarcely  remarked,  so  soon  is  it  filled  up  again  ;  nay,  it  is 
often  but  the  place,  if  not  for  something  better,  at  least  for 
something  more  agreeable." 

"And  the  sorrows  of  our  friends  we  are  not  to  take  into 
account?  " 

"For  our  friends,  too,  it  is  well,  when  they  soon  recover 
their  composure,  when  they  say  each  to  himself,  there  where 
thou  art,  there  where  thou  remainest,  accomplish  what  thou 
canst ;  be  busy,  be  courteous,  and  let  the  present  scene  de- 
light thee." 

On  a  narrower  inquiry,  he  found  what  he  had  looked  for : 
the  opera  had  been  set  up,  and  was  exclusively  attracting  the 
attention  of  the  public.  His  parts  had  in  the  mean  while 
been  distributed  between  Horatio  and  Laertes,  and  both  of 
them  were  in  the  habit  of  eliciting  from  the  spectators  far 
more  liberal  applause  than  he  had  ever  been  enabled  to 
obtain. 

Laertes  entered:  and  Madam  Melina   cried,  "Look  you 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  417 

here  at  this  lucky  fellow ;  he  is  soon  to  be  a  capitalist,  or 
Heaven  knows  what!"  Wilhelm,  in  embracing  him,  dis- 
covered that  his  coat  was  superfine :  the  rest  of  his  apparel 
was  simple,  but  of  the  very  best  materials. 

"  Solve  me  the  riddle  !  "  cried  our  friend. 

"You  are  still  in  time  to  learn,"  replied  Laertes,  "that 
my  running  to  and  fro  is  now  about  to  be  repaid  ;  that  a  part- 
ner in  a  large  commercial  house  is  turning  to  advantage  my 
acquirements  from  books  or  observation,  and  allowing  me  a 
share  with  him.  I  would  give  something,  could  I  purchase 
back  my  confidence  in  women  :  there  is  a  pretty  niece  in  the 
house ;  and  I  see  well  enough,  that,  if  I  pleased,  I  might 
soon  be  a  made  man." 

"You  have  not  heard,"  said  Frau  Melina,  "that  a  mar- 
riage has  already  taken  place  among  ourselves?  Serlo  is 
actually  wedded  to  the  fair  Elmira  :  her  father  would  not  tol- 
erate their  secret  correspondence." 

They  talked  in  this  manner  about  many  things  that  had 
occurred  while  he  was  absent :  nor  was  it  difficult  for  him  to 
observe,  that,  according  to  the  present  temper  and  constitu- 
tion of  the  company,  his  dismissal  had  already  taken  place. 

He  impatiently  expected  Barbara,  who  had  appointed  him 
to  wait  for  her  far  in  the  night.  She  was  to  come  when  all 
were  sleeping :  she  required  as  many  preparations  as  if  she 
had  been  the  youngest  maiden  gliding  in  to  her  beloved. 
Meanwhile  he  read  a  hundred  times  the  letter  she  had  given 
him,  —  read  with  unspeakable  delight  the  word  faithful  in  the 
hand  of  his  darling,  with  horror  the  announcement  of  her 
death,  whose  approaches  she  appeared  to  view  unmoved. 

Midnight  was  past,  when  something  rustled  at  the  half- 
open  door,  and  Barbara  came  in  with  a  little  basket.  "I  am 
to  tell  you  the  story  of  our  woes,"  said  she :  "  and  I  must 
believe  that  you  will  sit  unmoved  at  the  recital ;  that  you  are 
•waiting  for  me  but  to  satisfy  your  curiosity ;  that  you  will 
now,  as  you  did  formerly,  retire  within  your  cold  selfishness, 
while  our  hearts  are  breaking.  But  look  you  here  !  Thus, 
on  that  happy  evening,  did  I  bring  you  the  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne ;  thus  did  I  place  the  three  glasses  on  the  table  :  and 
as  you  then  began,  with  soft  nursery  tales,  to  cozen  us  and 
lull  us  asleep ;  so  will  I  now  with  stern  truths  instruct  you 
and  keep  you  waking." 

Wilhelm  knew  not  what  to  say,  when  the  old  woman,  in 
fact,  let  go  the  cork,  and  filled  the  three  glasses  to  the  brim. 

"Drink!"  cried  she,  having  emptied  at  a  draught  her 


418  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

foaming  glass.  "  Drink,  ere  the  spirit  of  it  pass !  This 
third  glass  shall  froth  away  untasted  to  the  memory  of  my 
unhappy  Mariana.  How  red  were  her  lips  when  she  then 
drank  your  health!  Ah,  and  now  forever  pale  and  cold!  " 

"•  Sibyl !  Fury  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  springing  up,  and  strik- 
ing the  table  with  his  fist,  "what  evil  spirit  possesses  thee 
and  drives  thee?  For  what  dost  thou  take  me,  that  thou 
thiukest  the  simplest  narrative  of  Mariana's  death  and  sor- 
rows will  not  harrow  me  enough,  but  usest  these  hellish  arts 
to  sharpen  my  torment?  If  thy  insatiable  greediness  is  such, 
that  thou  must  revel  at  the  funeral- table,  drink  and  speak ! 
I  have  loathed  thee  from  of  old ;  and  I  cannot  reckon  Ma- 
riana guiltless  while  I  even  look  upon  thee,  her  compan- 
ion." 

"  Softly,  mein  Herr !  "  replied  the  crone  :  "  you  shall  not 
ruffle  me.  Your  debts  to  us  are  deep  and  dark :  the  railing 
of  a  debtor  does  not  anger  one.  But  you  are  right :  the 
simplest  narrative  will  punish  you  sufficiently.  Hear,  then, 
the  struggle  and  the  victory  of  Mariana  striving  to  continue 
yours." 

"  Continue  mine  ?  "  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  what  fable  dost  thou 
mean  to  tell  me?  " 

"  Interrupt  me  not,"  said  she  ;  "  hear  me,  and  then  give 
what  belief  you  list :  to  me  it  is  all  one.  Did  you  not,  the 
last  night  you  were  with  us,  find  a  letter  in  the  room,  and  take 
it  with  you? " 

"  I  found  the  letter  after  I  had  taken  it  with  me  :  it  was 
lying  in  the  neckerchief,  which,  in  the  warmth  of  my  love,  I 
had  seized  and  carried  off." 

"  What  did  the  sheet  contain?  " 

"  The  expectation  of  an  angry  lover  to  be  better  treated 
on  the  next  than  he  had  been  on  the  preceding  evening. 
And  that  you  kept  your  word  to  him,  I  need  not  be  told  ;  for 
I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes  gliding  from  your  house  before 
daj-break." 

"  You  may  have  seen  him  ;  but  what  occurred  within,  how 
sadly  Mariana  passed  that  night,  how  fretfully  1  passed  it, 
you  are  yet  to  learn.  I  will  be  altogether  candid :  I  will 
neither  hide  nor  palliate  the  fact,  that  I  persuaded  Mariana 
to  yield  to  the  solicitations  of  a  certain  Norberg  ;  it  was  with 
repugnance  that  she  followed  my  advice,  nay,  that  she  even 
heard  it.  He  was  rich ;  he  seemed  attached  :  I  hoped  he 
would  be  constant.  Soon  after,  he  was  forced  to  go  upon 
his  journey ;  and  Mariana  became  acquainted  with  you. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  419 

What  had  I  then  to  abide !  What  to  hinder,  what  to  un- 
dergo !  '  Oh ! '  cried  she  often,  l  hadst  thou  spared  my 
youth,  my  innocence,  but  four  short  weeks,  I  might  have 
found  a  worthy  object  of  my  love  ;  I  had  then  been  worthy  of 
him ;  and  love  might  have  given,  with  a  quiet  conscience, 
what  now  I  have  sold  against  my  will.'  She  entirely  aban- 
doned herself  to  her  affection  for  you  :  I  need  not  ask  if  you 
were  happy.  Over  her  understanding  I  had  an  unbounded 
power,  for  I  knew  the  means  of  satisfying  all  her  little  in- 
clinations :  but  over  her  heart  I  had  no  control ;  for  she 
never  sanctioned  what  I  did  for  her,  what  I  counselled  her  to 
do,  when  her  heart  said  nay.  It  was  only  to  irresistible 
necessity  that  she  would  }rield,  but  erelong  the  necessity  ap- 
peared to  her  extremely  pressing.  In  the  first  period  of  her 
youth,  she  had  never  known  want ;  by  a  complication  of  mis- 
fortunes, her  people  lost  their  fortune ;  the  poor  girl  had 
been  used  to  have  a  number  of  conveniences  ;  and  upon  her 
young  spirit  certain  principles  of  honor  had  been  stamped, 
which  made  her  restless,  without  much  helping  her.  She  had 
not  the  smallest  skill  in  worldly  matters :  she  was  innocent 
in  the  strictest  meaning  of  the  word.  She  had  no  idea  that 
one  could  buy  without  paying ;  nothing  frightened  her  more 
than  being  in  debt :  she  always  rather  liked  to  give  than 
take.  This,  and  this  alone,  was  what  made  it  possible  that 
she  could  be  constrained  to  give  herself  away,  in  order  to 
get  rid  of  various  little  debts  which  weighed  upon  her." 

"  And  couldst  not  thou,"  cried  Wilhelm,  in  an  angry  tone, 
"  have  saved  her?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  replied  the  beldame,  "  with  hunger  and  need, 
with  sorrow  and  privation  ;  -but  for  this  I  was  not  disposed." 

"Abominable,  base  procuress!  So  thou  hast  sacrificed 
the  hapless  creature !  Offered  her  up  to  thy  throat,  to  thy 
insatiable  maw !  " 

"  It  were  better  to  compose  yourself,  and  cease  your  revil- 
ing," said  the  dame.  "  If  you  will  revile,  go  to  your  high, 
noble  houses :  there  you  will  meet  with  many  a  mother,  full 
of  anxious  cares  to  find  out  for  some  lovely,  heavenly  maiden 
the  most  odious  of  men,  provided  he  be  the  richest.  See  the 
poor  creature  shivering  and  faltering  before  her  fate,  and 
nowhere  finding  consolation,  till  some  more  experienced  fe- 
male lets  her  understand,  that,  by  marriage,  she  acquires  the 
right,  in  future,  to  dispose  of  her  heart  and  person  as  she 
pleases." 

"Peace!"  cried  Wilhelm.     "Dost  thou  think  that  one 


420  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

crime  can  be  the  excuse  of  another?  To  thy  story,  without 
further  observations !  " 

"  Do  you  listen,  then,  without  blaming !  Mariana  became 
yours  against  my  will.  In  this  adventure,  at  least,  I  have 
nothing  to  reproach  myself  with.  Norberg  returned ;  he 
made  haste  to  visit  Mariana:  she  received  him  coldly  and 
angrily,  —  would  not  even  admit  him  to  a  kiss.  I  emplo3Ted 
all  my  art  in  apologizing  for  her  conduct,  —  gave  him  to 
understand  that  her  confessor  had  awakened  her  conscience  ; 
that,  so  long  as  conscientious  scruples  lasted,  one  was  bound 
to  respect  them.  I  at  last  so  far  succeeded  that  he  went 
away,  I  promising  to  do  my  utmost  for  him.  He  was  rich 
and  rude  ;  but  there  was  a  touch  of  goodness  in  him,  and  he 
loved  Mariana  without  limit.  He  promised  to  be  patient, 
and  I  labored  with  the  greatest  ardor  not  to  try  him  too  far. 
With  Mariana  I  had  a  stubborn  contest:  I  persuaded  her, 
nay,  I  may  call  it  forced  her,  by  the  threat  of  leaving  her,  to 
write  to  Norberg,  and  invite  him  for  the  night.  You  came, 
and  by  chance  picked  up  his  answer  in  the  neckerchief. 
Your  presence  broke  my  game.  For  scarcely  were  you  gone, 
when  she  anew  began  her  lamentation :  she  swore  she  would 
not  be  unfaithful  to  you ;  she  was  so  passionate,  so  frantic, 
that  I  could  not  help  sincerely  pitying  her.  In  the  end,  I 
promised,  that  for  this  night  also  I  would  pacify  her  lover, 
and  send  him  off,  under  some  pretence  or  other.  I  entreated 
her  to  go  to  bed,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  trust  me :  she  kept 
on  her  clothes,  and  at  last  fell  asleep,  without  undressing, 
agitated  and  exhausted  with  weeping  as  she  was. 

"  Norberg  came ;  representing  in  the  blackest  hues  her 
conscientious  agonies  and  her  repentance,  I  endeavored  to 
retain  him :  he  wished  to  see  her,  and  I  went  into  the  room 
to  prepare  her ;  he  followed  me,  and  both  of  us  at  once 
came  forward  to  her  bed.  She  awoke,  sprang  wildly  up,  and 
tore  herself  from  our  arms :  she  conjured  and  begged,  she 
entreated,  threatened,  and  declared  she  would  not  yield. 
She  was  improvident  enough  to  let  fall  some  words  about  the 
true  state  of  her  affections,  which  poor  Norberg  had  to 
understand  in  a  spiritual  sense.  At  length  he  left  her,  and 
she  locked  her  door.  I  kept  him  long  with  me,  and  talked 
with  him  about  her  situation.  I  told  him  that  she  was  with 
child  ;  that,  poor  girl,  she  should  be  humored.  He  was  so 
delighted  with  his  fatherhood,  with  his  prospect  of  a  boy, 
that  he  granted  every  tiling  she  wished  :  he  promised  rather 
to  set  out  and  travel  for  a  time,  than  vex  his  dear,  and 


MErSTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  421 

injure  her  by  these  internal  troubles.  With  such  intentions, 
at  an  early  hour  he  glided  out ;  and  if  you,  meiu  Herr, 
stood  sentry  by  our  house,  there  was  nothing  wanting  to  your 
happiness,  but  to  have  looked  into  the  bosom  of  your  rival, 
whom  you  thought  so  favored  and  so  fortunate,  and  whose 
appearance  drove  you  to  despair." 

"  Art  thou  speaking  truth?  "  said  Wilhelm. 

"  True,"  said  the  crone,  "  as  I  still  hope  to  drive  you  to 
despair." 

"Yes:  certainly  you  would  despair,  if  I  could  rightly 
paint  to  you  the  following  morning.  How  cheerfully  did  she 
awake  !  how  kindly  did  she  call  me  in,  how  warmly  thank 
me,  how  cordially  press  me  to  her  bosom  !  '  Now,'  said  she, 
stepping  up  to  her  mirror  with  a  smile,  '  can  I  again  take 
pleasure  in  myself,  and  in  my  looks,  since  once  more  I  am 
my  own,  am  his,  my  one  beloved  friend's.  How  sweet  is  it 
to  conquer !  How  I  thank  thee  for  taking  charge  of  me  ;  for 
having  turned  thy  prudence  and  thy  understanding,  once,  at 
least,  to  my  advantage !  Stand  by  me,  and  devise  the  means 
of  making  me  entirely  happy  !  ' 

"  I  assented,  would  not  irritate  her:  I  flattered  her  hopes, 
and  she  caressed  me  tenderly.  If  she  retired  but  a  moment 
from  the  window,  I  was  made  to  stand  and  watch :  for  you, 
of  course,  would  pass  ;  for  she  at  least  would  see  you.  Thus 
did  we  spend  the  restless  day.  At  night,  at  the  accustomed 
hour,  we  looked  for  you  with  certainty.  I  was  already  out 
waiting  at  the  staircase :  I '  grew  weary,  and  came  in  to  her 
again.  With  surprise  I  found  her  in  her  military  dress  :  she 
looked  cheerful  and  charming  beyond  what  I  had  ever  seen 
her.  'Do  I  not  deserve,'  said  she,  'to  appear  to-night  in 
man's  apparel?  Have  I  not  struggled  bravely ?  My  dear- 
est shall  see  me  as  he  saw  me  for  the  first  time :  I  will  press 
him  as  tenderly  and  with  greater  freedom  to  my  heart  than 
then  ;  for  am  I  not  his  much  more  than  I  was  then,  when  a 
noble  resolution  had  not  freed  me?  But,'  added  she,  after 
pausing  for  a  little,  '  I  have  not  yet  entirely  won  him  ;  I  must 
still  risk  the  uttermost,  in  order  to  be  worthy,  to  be  certain 
of  possessing  him ;  I  must  disclose  the  whole  to  him,  dis- 
cover to  him  all  my  state,  then  leave  it  to  himself  to  keep  or 
to  reject  me.  This  scene  I  am  preparing  for  my  friend,  pre- 
paring for  myself ;  and,  were  his  feelings  capable  of  casting 
me  awa}',  I  should  then  belong  again  entirely  to  myself ;  my 
punishment  would  bring  me  consolation.  I  would  suffer  all 
that  fate  could  lay  upon  rne.' 


422  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

""With  such  purposes  and  hopes,  mem  Herr,  this  lovely 
girl  expected  you  :  you  came  not.  Oh  !  how  shall  I  describe 
the  state  of  watching  and  of  hope  ?  I  see  thee  still  before 
me,  —  with  what  love,  what  heartfelt  love,  thou  spokest  of 
the  man  whose  cruelty  thou  hadst  not  yet  experienced." 

"  Good,  dear  Barbara !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  springing  up,  and 
seizing  the  old  woman  by  the  hand,  "  we  have  had  enough  of 
mummery  and  preparation  !  Thy  indifferent,  thy  calm,  con- 
tented tone  betrays  thee.  Give  me  back  m}^  Mariana !  She 
is  living,  she  is  near  at  hand.  Not  in  vain  didst  thou  choose 
this  late,  lonely  hour  to  visit  me  ;  not  in  vain  hast  thou  pre- 
pared me  by  thy  most  delicious  narrative.  Where  is  she? 
AVhere  hast  thou  hidden  her?  I  believe  all,  I  will  promise  to 
believe  all,  so  thou  but  show  her  to  me,  so  thou  give  her  to 
my  arms.  The  shadow  of  her  I  have  seen  already :  let  me 
clasp  her  once  more  to  my  bosom.  I  will  kneel  before  her, 
1  will  entreat  forgiveness  ;  I  will  congratulate  her  upon  her 
victory  over  herself  and  thee ;  I  will  bring  my  Felix  to  her. 
Come!  Where  hast  thou  concealed  her?  Leave  her,  leave 
me  no  longer  in  uncertainty  !  Thy  object  is  attained.  Where 
hast  thou  hidden  her?  Let  me  light  thee  with  this  candle, 
let  me  once  more  see  her  fair  and  kindly  face  ! ' ' 

He  had  pulled  old  Barbara  from  her  chair :  she  stared  at 
him ;  tears  started  into  her  eyes,  wild  pangs  of  grief  took 
hold  of  her.  "What  luckless  error,"  cried  she,  "leaves 
you  still  a  moment's  hope?  Yes,  I  have  hidden  her,  but 
beneath  the  ground :  neither  the  light  of  the  sun  nor  any 
social  taper  shall  again  illuminate  her  kindly  face.  Take 
the  boy  Felix  to  her  grave,  and  say  to  him,  '  There  lies  thy 
mother,  whom  thy  father  doomed  unheard.'  The  heart  of 
Mariana  beats  no  longer  with  impatience  to  behold  you  :  not 
in  a  neighboring  chamber  is  she  waiting  the  conclusion  of  my 
narrative  or  fable ;  the  dark  chamber  has  received  her,  to 
which  no  bridegroom  follows,  from  which  none  comes  to 
meet  a  lover." 

She  cast  herself  upon  the  floor  beside  a  chair,  and  wept 
bitterly.  Wilhelm  now,  for  the  first  time,  felt  entirely  con- 
vinced that  Mariana  was  no  more :  his  emotions  it  is  easy 
to  conceive.  The  old  woman  rose :  "I  have  nothing  more 
to  tell  you,"  cried  she,  and  threw  a  packet  on  the  table. 
' '  Here  are  some  writings  that  will  put  your  cruelty  to 
shame :  peruse  these  sheets  with  unwet  eyes,  if  you  can." 
She  glided  softly  out.  Our  friend  had  not  the  heart  to  open 
the  pocket-book  that  night :  he  had  himself  presented  it  to 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  423 

Mariana ;  he  knew  that  she  had  carefully  preserved  in  it 
every  letter  he  had  sent  her.  Next  morning  he  prevailed 
upon  himself :  he  untied  the  ribbon  ;  little  notes  came  for- 
ward written  with  pencil  in  his  own  hand,  and  recalled  to 
him  every  situation,  from  the  first  day  of  their  graceful 
acquaintance  to  the  last  of  their  stern  separation.  In  par- 
ticular, it  was  not  without  acute  anguish  that  he  read  a  small 
series  of  billets  which  had  been  addressed  to  himself,  and  to 
which,  as  he  saw  from  their  tenor,  Werner  had  refused 
admittance. 

"  No  one  of  my  letters  has  yet  penetrated  to  thee ;  my 
entreaties,  my  prayers,  have  not  reached  thee  ;  was  it  thyself 
that  gave  these  cruel  orders  ?  Shall  I  never  see  thee  more  ? 
Yet  again  I  attempt  it :  I  entreat  thee,  come,  oh  come !  I 
ask  not  to  retain  thee,  if  I  might  but  once  more  press  thee 
to  my  heart." 

"  When  I  used  to  sit  beside  thee,  holding  thy  hands,  look- 
ing in  thy  eyes,  and  with  the  full  heart  of  love  and  trust  to 
call  thee  '  Dear,  dear  good  Wilhelm ! '  it  would  please  thee 
so,  that  I  had  to  repeat  it  over  and  over.  I  repeat  it  once 
again  :  '  Dear,  dear  good  Wilhelm  !  Be  good  as  thou  wert : 
come,  and  leave  me  not  to  perish  in  rny  wretchedness.' ' 

"  Thou  regardest  me  as  guilty  :  I  am  so,  but  not  as  thou 
thinkest.  Come,  let  me  have  this  single  comfort,  to  be  alto- 
gether known  to  thee,  let  what  will  befall  me  afterwards." 

"  Not  for  my  sake  alone,  for  thy  own  too,  I  beg  of  thee 
to  come.  I  feel  the  intolerable  pains  thou  art  suffering, 
whilst  thou  fleest  from  me.  Come,  that  our  separation  may 
be  less  cruel !  Perhaps  I  was  never  worthy  of  thee  till  this 
moment,  when  thou  art  repelling  me  to  boundless  woe." 

"  By  all  that  is  holy,  by  all  that  can  touch  a  human  heart, 
I  call  upon  thee !  It  involves  the  safety  of  a  soul,  it  in- 
volves a  life,  two  lives,  one  of  which  must  ever  be  dear  to 
thee.  This,  too,  thy  suspicion  will  discredit:  yet  I  will 
speak  it  in  the  hour  of  death  ;  the  child  which  I  carry  under 
my  heart  is  thine.  Since  I  began  to  love  thee,  no  other 
man  has  even  pressed  my  hand.  Oh  that  thy  love,  that  thy 
uprightness,  had  been  the  companions  of  my  youth!  " 


424  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"Thou  wilt  not  hear  me?  I  must  even  be  silent.  But 
these  letters  will  not  die :  perhaps  they  will  speak  to  thee, 
wheii  the  shroud  is  covering  my  lips,  and  the  voice  of  thy 
repentance  cannot  reach  my  ear.  Through  my  weary  life, 
to  the  last  moment,  this  will  be  my  only  comfort,  that, 
though  I  cannot  call  myself  blameless,  towards  thee  I  am 
free  from  blame." 

Wilhelm  could  proceed  no  farther:  he  resigned  himself 
entirely  to  his  sorrow,  which  became  still  more  afflicting ; 
when,  Laertes  entering,  he  was  obliged  to  hide  his  feelings. 
Laertes  showed  a  purse  of  ducats,  and  began  to  count  and 
reckon  them,  assuring  Wilhelm  that  there  could  be  nothing 
finer  in  the  world  than  for  a  man  to  feel  himself  on  the  way 
to  wealth ;  that  nothing  then  could  trouble  or  detain  him. 
Wilhelm  bethought  him  of  his  dream,  and  smiled ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  he  remembered  with  a  shudder,  that  in  his  vision 
Mariana  had  forsaken  him,  to  follow  his  departed  father, 
and  that  both  of  them  at  last  had  moved  about  the  garden, 
hovering  in  the  air  like  spirits. 

Laertes  forced  him  from  his  meditations :  he  brought  him 
to  a  coffee-house,  where,  immediately  on  Wilhelm's  entrance, 
several  persons  gathered  round  him.  They  were  men  who 
had  applauded  his  performance  on  the  stage  :  they  expressed 
their  joy  at  meeting  him  ;  lamenting  that,  as  they  had  heard, 
he  meant  to  leave  the  theatre.  They  spoke  so  reasonably 
and  kindly  of  himself  and  his  acting,  of  his  talent,  and  their 
hopes  from  it,  that  Wilhelm,  not  without  emotion,  cried  at 
last,  "  Oh,  how  infinitely  precious  would  such  sympathy  have 
been  to  me  some  months  ago !  How  instructive,  how  en- 
couraging !  Never  had  I  turned  my  mind  so  totally  from  the 
concerns  of  the  stage,  never  had  I  gone  so  far  as  to  despair 
of  the  public." 

"  So  far  as  this,"  said  an  elderly  man  who  now  stepped 
forward,  "we  should  never  go.  The  public  is  large:  true 
judgment,  true  feeling,  are  not  quite  so  rare  as  one  believes ; 
only  the  artist  ought  not  to  demand  an  unconditional  ap- 
proval of  his  work.  Unconditional  approval  is  always  the 
least  valuable :  conditional  you  gentlemen  are  not  content 
with.  In  life,  as  in  art,  I  know  well,  a  person  must  take 
counsel  with  himself  when  he  purposes  to  do  or  to  produce 
any  thing :  but,  when  it  is  produced  or  done,  he  must  listen 
with  attention  to  the  voices  of  a  number ;  and,  with  a  little 
practice,  out  of  these  many  votes  he  will  be  able  to  collect  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  425 

perfect  judgment.  The  few  who  could  well  have  saved  us 
this  trouble  for  the  most  part  hold  their  peace." 

"•  This  they  should  not  do,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  I  have  often 
heard  people,  who  themselves  kept  silence  in  regard  to  works 
of  merit,  complain  and  lament  that  silence  was  kept." 

"To-day,  then,  we  will  speak  aloud,"  cried  a  young  man. 
"  You  must  dine  with  us  ;  and  we  will  try  to  pay  off  a  little 
of  the  debt  which  we  have  owed  to  you,  and  sometimes  also 
to  our  good  Aurelia." 

This  invitation  Wilhelm  courteously  declined :  he  went  to 
Fran  Melina,  whom  he  wished  to  speak  with  on  the  subject  of 
the  children,  as  he  meant  to  take  them  from  her. 

Old  Barbara's  secret  was  not  too  religiously  observed  by 
him.  He  betrayed  himself  so  soon  as  he  again  beheld  the 
lovely  Felix.  "  Oh  my  child  !  "  cried  he  :  "  my  dear  child  !  " 
He  lifted  him,  and  pressed  him  to  his  heart.  , 

"  Father !  what  hast  thou  brought  for  me  ?  "  cried  the  child. 
Miguon  looked  at  both,  as  if  she  meant  to  warn  them  not  to 
blab. 

"What  new  phenomenon  is  this?"  said  Frau  Melina. 
They  got  the  children  sent  away ;  and  Wilhelm,  thinking 
that  he  did  not  owe  old  Barbara  the  strictest  secrecy,  dis- 
closed the  whole  affair  to  Frau  Meliua.  She  viewed  him 
with  a  srnile.  "  Oh,  these  credulous  men  !  "  exclaimed  she. 
"  If  any  thing  is  lying  in  their  path,  it  is  so  easy  to  impose  it 
on  them ;  while  in  other  cases  they  will  neither  look  to  the 
right  nor  left,  and  can  value  nothing  which  they  have  not 
previously  impressed  with  the  stamp  of  an  arbitrary  pas- 
sion !  "  She  sighed,  against  her  will :  if  our  friend  had  not 
been  altogether  blind,  he  must  have  noticed  in  her  conduct 
an  affection  for  him  which  had  never  been  entirely  subdued. 

He  now  spoke  with  her  about  the  children,  —  how  he  pur- 
posed to  keep  Felix  with  him,  and  to  place  Mignon  in  the 
country.  Madam  Melina,  though  sorry  at  the  thought  of 
parting  with  them,  said  the  plan  was  good,  nay,  absolutely 
necessary.  Felix  was  becoming  wild  with  her,  and  Mignon 
seemed  to  need  fresh  air  and  other  occupation :  she  was 
sickly,  and  was  not  yet  recovering. 

"  Let  it  not  mislead  you,"  added  Frau  Melina,  "  that  I 
have  lightly  hinted  doubts  about  the  boy's  being  really 
yours.  The  old  woman,  it  is  true,  deserves  but  little  confi- 
dence ;  yet  a  person  who  invents  untruths  for  her  advantage, 
may  likewise  speak  the  truth  when  truths  are  profitable  to 
her.  Aurelia  she  had  hoodwinked  to  believe  that  Felix  was 


426  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

Lothario's  son  ;  and  it  is  a  property  of  us  women,  that  we 
cordially  like  the  children  of  our  lovers,  though  we  do  not 
know  the  mothers,  or  even  hate  them  from  the  heart."  Fe- 
lix came  jumping  in  :  she  pressed  him  to  her  with  a  tender- 
ness which  was  not  usual  to  her. 

Wilhelm  hastened  home,  and  sent  for  Barbara,  who,  how- 
ever, would  not  undertake  to  meet  him  till  the  twilight.  He 
received  her  angrily.  "  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more 
shameful,"  said  he,  "than  establishing  one's  self  on  lies 
and  fables.  .  Already  thou  hast  done  much  mischief  with 
them  ;  and  now,  when  thy  word  could  decide  the  fortune  of 
my  life,  now  must  I  stand  dubious,  not  venturing  to  call  the 
child  my  own,  though  to  possess  him  without  scruple  would 
form  my  highest  happiness.  I  cannot  look  upon  thee,  scan- 
dalous creature,  without  hatred  and  contempt." 

"Your  conduct,  if  I  speak  with  candor,"  said  the  old 
woman,  "appears  to  me  intolerable.  Even  if  Felix  were 
not  yours,  he  is  the  fairest  and  the  loveliest  child  in  nature  : 
one  might  purchase  him  at  any  price,  to  have  him  always 
near  one.  Is  lie  not  worthy  your  acceptance?  Do  not  I 
deserve  for  my  care,  for  the  labor  I  have  had  with  him,  a 
little  pension  for  the  small  remainder  of  my  life  ?  Oh,  you 
gentlemen  who  know  no  want !  It  is  well  for  you  to  talk  of 
truth  and  honor ;  but  how  the  miserable  being  whose  small- 
est necessity  is  unprovided  for,  who  sees  in  her  perplexities 
no  friend,  no  help,  no  counsel,  how  she  is  to  press  through 
the  crowd  of  selfish  men,  and  to  starve  in  silence,  you  are 
seldom  at  the  trouble  to  consider.  Did  you  read  Mariana's 
letters  ?  They  are  the  letters  she  wrote  to  you  at  that  un- 
happy season.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  attempted  to  approach 
you  to  deliver  you  these  sheets :  your  savage  brother-in-law 
had  so  begirt  you,  that  craft  and  cunning  were  of  no  avail ; 
and  at  last,  when  he  began  to  threaten  me  and  Mariana  with 
imprisonment,  I  had  then  to  cease  my  efforts  and  renounce  all 
hope.  Does  not  every  thing  agree  with  what  I  told  you? 
And  does  not  Norberg's  letter  put  the  story  altogether  out 
of  doubt?" 

"What  letter?"  asked  he. 

"  Did  you  not  find  it  in  the  pocket-book?  "  said  Barbara. 

"  I  have  not  yet  read  all  of  them." 

"  Give  me  the  pocket-book  :  on  that  paper  every  thing  de- 
pends. Norberg's  luckless  billet  caused  this  sorrowful  per- 
plexity :  another  from  his  hand  may  loose  the  knots,  so  far  as 
aught  may  still  depend  upon  unravelling  them."  She  took  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  427 

letter  from  the  book :  Wilhelm  recognized  that  odious  writ- 
ing ;  he  constrained  himself,  and  read,  — 

"Tell  me,  girl,  how  hast  thou  got  such  power  over  me? 
I  would  noi  have  believed  that  a  goddess  herself  could  make 
a  sighing  lover  of  me.  Instead  of  hastening  towards  me 
with  open  arms,  thou  shraukest  back  from  me :  one  might 
have  taken  it  for  aversion.  Is  it  fair  that  I  should  spend 
the  night  with  old  Barbara,  sitting  on  a  trunk,  and  but  two 
doors  between  me  and  my  pretty  Mariana?  It  is  too  bad,  I 
tell  thee !  I  have  promised  to  allow  thee  time  to  think,  not 
to  press  thee  unrelentingly  :  I  could  run  mad  at  every  wasted 
quarter  of  an  hour.  Have  not  I  given  thee  gifts  according 
to  my  power?  Dost  thou  still  doubt  of  my  love?  What 
wilt  thou  have  ?  Do  but  tell  me :  thou  shalt  want  for  noth- 
ing. Would  the  Devil  had  the  priest  that  put  such,  stuff  into 
thy  head  !  Why  didst  thou  go  to  such  a  churl  ?  There  are 
plenty  of  them  that  allow  young  people  somewhat.  In  short, 
I  tell  thee,  things  must  alter :  in  two  days  I  must  have  an 
answer,  for  I  am  to  leave  the  town  ;  and,  if  thou  become  not 
kind  and  friendly  to  me,  thou  shalt  never  see  me  more."  .  .  . 

In  this  style  the  letter  spun  itself  to  great  length ;  turn- 
ing, to  Wilhelm's  painful  satisfaction,  still  about  the  same 
point,  and  testifying  for  the  truth  of  the  account  which  he 
had  got  from  Barbara.  A  second  letter  clearly  proved  that 
Mariana,  in  the  sequel,  also  had  maintained  her  purpose ; 
and  it  was  not  without  heartfelt  grief,  that,  out  of  these  and 
other  papers,  Wilhelm  learned  the  history  of  the  unlucky 
girl  to  the  very  hour  of  her  death. 

Barbara  had  gradually  tamed  rude,  regardless  Norbcrg, 
by  announcing  to  him  Mariana's  death,  and  leaving  him  in  the 
belief  that  Felix  was  his  son.  Once  or  twice  he  had  sent 
her  money,  which,  however,  she  retained  for  herself ;  having 
talked  Aurelia  into  taking  charge  of  the  child.  But,  un- 
happily, this  secret  source  of  riches  did  not  long  endure. 
Norberg,  by  a  life  of  riot,  had  impaired  his  fortune  ;  and,  by 
repeated  love-affairs,  his  heart  was  rendered  callous  to  his 
supposed  first-born. 

Probable  as  all  this  seemed,  beautifully  as  it  all  agreed, 
Wilhelm  did  not  venture  to  give  way  to  joy.  He  still 
appeared  to  dread  a  present  coming  from  his  evil  Genius. 

"Your  jealous  fears,"  said  Barbara,  who  guessed  his 
mood  of  mind,  ^'  time  alone  can  cure.  Look  upon  the  child 
as  a  stranger  one  ;  take  stricter  heed  of  him  on  that  account ; 
observe  his  gifts,  his  temper,  his  capacities ;  and  if  you  do 


428  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

not,  by  and  by,  discover  in  him  the  exact  resemblance  of 
yourself,  your  eyes  must  certainly  be  bad.  Of  this  I  cau 
assure  you,  —  were  I  a  man,  no  one  should  foist  a  child  on 
me ;-  but  it  is  a  happiness  for  women,  that,  in  these  cases, 
men  are  not  so  quick  of  sight." 

These  things  over,  Wilhelm  and  Barbara  parted :  he  was 
to  take  Felix  with  him  ;  she,  to  carry  Mignon  to  Theresa, 
and  afterwards  to  live  in  any  place  she  pleased,  upon  a  small 
annuity  which  he  engaged  to  settle  on  her. 

He  sent  for  Mignon,  to  prepare  her  for  the  new  arrange- 
ment. "  Master,"  said  she,  "  keep  me  with  thee :  it  will  do 
me  good,  and  do  me  ill." 

He  told  her,  that,  as  she  was  now  grown  up,  there  should 
be  something  further  done  for  her  instruction.  "  I  am  suffi- 
ciently instructed,"  answered  she,  "  to  love  and  grieve." 

He  directed  her  attention  to  her  health,  and  showed  that 
she  required  continuous  care,  and  the  direction  of  a  good 
physician.  "  Why  care  for  me,"  said  she,  "  when  there  are 
so  many  things  to  care  for?  " 

After  he  had  labored  greatly  to  persuade  her  that  he  could 
not  take  her  with  him,  that  he  would  conduct  her  to  a  place 
where  he  might  often  see  her,  she  appeared  as  if  she  had  not 
heard  a  word  of  it.  "Thou  wishest  not  to  have  me  with 
thee,"  said  she.  "Perhaps  it  is  better:  send  me  to  the  old 
harper;  the  poor  man  is  lonely  where  he  is." 

Wilhelm  tried  to  show  her  that  the  old  man  was  in  com- 
fortable circumstances.  "  Every  hour  I  long  for  him,"  re- 
plied the  child. 

"  I  did  not  see,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  thou  wert  so  fond 
of  him  when  he  was  living  with  us." 

"  I  was  frightened  for  him  when  he  was  awake ;  I  could 
not  bear  his  eyes  :  but,  when  he  was  asleep,  I  liked  so  well  to 
sit  by  him  !  I  used  to  chase  the  flies  from  him  :  I  could  not 
look  at  him  enough.  Oh !  he  has  stood  by  me  in  fearful  mo- 
ments :  none  knows  how  much  I  owe  him.  Had  I  known 
the  road,  I  should  have  run  away  to  him  already." 

Wilhelm  set  the  circumstances  in  detail  before  her :  he  said 
that  she  had  always  been  a  reasonable  child,  and  that,  on 
this  occasion  also,  she  might  do  as  she  desired.  "  Reason  is 
cruel,"  said  she  ;  "  the  heart  is  better :  I  will  go  as  thou  re- 
quirest,  only  leave  me  Felix." 

After  much  discussion  her  opinion  was  not  altered  ;  and 
Wilhelm  at  last  resolved  on  giving  Barbara  both  the  children, 
and  sending  them  together  to  Theresa.  This  was  the  easier 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  429 

for  him,  as  he  still  feared  to  look  upon  the  lovely  Felix  as 
his  son.  He  would  take  him  on  his  arm,  and  carry  him 
about :  the  child  delighted  to  be  held  before  the  glass ;  Wil- 
helm  also  liked,  though  unavowedly,  to  hold  him  there,  and 
seek  resemblances  between  their  faces.  If  for  a  moment  any 
striking  similarity  appeared  between  them,  he  would  press 
the  boy  in  his  arms ;  and  then,  at  once  affrighted  by  the 
thought  that  he  might  be  mistaken,  he  would  set  him  down, 
and  let  him  run  away.  "  Oh,"  cried  he,  "  if  I  were  to  appro- 
priate this  priceless  treasure,  and  it  were  then  to  be  snatched 
from  me,  I  should  be  the  most  unhappy  man  on  earth !  " 

The  children  had  been  sent  away  ;  and  Wilhelm  was  about 
to  take  a  formal  leave  of  the  theatre,  when  he  felt  that  in 
reality  he  had  already  taken  leave,  and  needed  but  to  go. 
Mariana  was  no  more :  his  two  guardian  spirits  had  de- 
parted, and  his  thoughts  hied  after  them.  The  fair  boy 
hovered  like  a  beautiful  uncertain  vision  in  the  eyes  of  his 
imagination  :  he  saw  him,  at  Theresa's  hand,  running  through 
the  fields  and  woods,  forming  his  mind  and  person  in  the 
free  air,  beside  a  free  and  cheerful  foster-mother.  Theresa 
had  become  far  dearer  to  him  since  he  figured  her  in  company 
with  Felix.  Even  while  sitting  in  the  theatre,  he  thought  of 
her  with  smiles  ;  he  was  almost  in  her  own  case :  the  stage 
could  now  produce  no  more  illusion  in  him. 

Seiio  and  Melina  were  excessively  polite  to  him,  when  they 
observed  that  he  was  making  no  pretensions  to  his  former 
place.  A  portion  of  the  public  wished  to  see  him  act  again : 
this  he  could  not  accede  to ;  nor  in  the  company  did  any  one 
desire  it,  saving  Frau  Melina. 

Of  this  friend  he  now  took  leave  ;  he  was  moved  at  parting 
with  her:  he  exclaimed,  "Why  do  we  presume  to  promise 
any  thing  depending  on  an  unknown  future  ?  The  most  slight 
engagement  we  have  not  power  to  keep,  far  less  a  purpose 
of  importance.  I  feel  ashamed  in  recollecting  what  I  prom- 
ised to  you  all,  in  that  unhappy  night,  when  we  were  lying 
plundered,  sick,  and  wounded,  crammed  into  a  miserable 
tavern.  How  did  misfortune  elevate  my  courage !  what  a 
treasure  did  I  think  I  had  found  in  my  good  wishes !  And 
of  all  this  not  a  jot  has  taken  effect !  I  leave  you  as  your 
debtor ;  and  my  comfort  is,  that  our  people  prized  my  prom- 
ise at  its  actual  worth,  and  never  more  took  notice  of  it." 

"  Be  not  unjust  to  yourself,"  said  Frau  Melina:  "if  no 
one  acknowledges  what  you  have  done  for  us,  I  at  least  will 
not  forget  it.  Our  whole  condition  had  been  different,  if  you 


430  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

had  not  been  with  us.  But  it  is  with  our  purposes  as  with 
our  wishes.  They  seem  no  longer  what  they  were,  when 
they  have  been  accomplished,  been  fulfilled ;  and  we  think 
we  have  done,  have  wished  for,  nothing." 

"You  shall  not,  by  your  friendly  statement,"  answered 
"VVilhelm,  "  put  my  conscience  to  peace.  1  shall  always  look 
upon  myself  as  in  your  debt." 

"Nay,  perhaps  you  are  so,"  said  Madam  Melina,  "but 
not  in  the  manner  you  suppose.  We  reckon  it  a  shame  to 
fail  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  promise  we  have  uttered  with  the 
voice.  O  my  friend  !  a  worthy  person  by  his  very  presence 
promises  us  much.  The  confidence  he  elicits,  the  inclination 
he  inspires,  the  hopes  he  awakens,  are  unbounded :  he  is  and 
continues  in  our  debt,  although  he  does  not  know  it.  Fare 
you  well !  If  our  external  circumstances  have  been  happily 
repaired  by  your  direction,  in  my  mind  there  is,  by  your  de- 
parture, produced  a  void  which  will  not  be  filled  up  again  so 
easily." 

Before  leaving  the  city,  Wilhelm  wrote  a  copious  sheet  to 
Werner.  He  had  before  exchanged  some  letters ;  but,  not 
being  able  to  agree,  they  had  at  length  ceased  to  write. 
Now,  however,  Wilhelm  had  again  approximated  to  his 
brother :  he  was  just  about  to  do  what  Werner  had  so  ear- 
nestly desired.  He  could  say,  "  I  am  abandoning  the  stage  : 
I  mean  to  join  myself  with  men  whose  intercourse,  in  every 
sense,  must  lead  me  to  "a  sure  and  suitable  activity."  He 
inquired  about  his  property ;  and  it  now  seemed  strange  to 
him,  that  he  had  never,  for  so  long  a  time,  disturbed  himself 
about  it.  He  knew  not  that  it  is  the  manner  of  all  persons 
who  attach  importance  to  their  inward  cultivation  altogether 
to  neglect  their  outward  circumstances.  This  had  been  Wil- 
helm's  case  :  he  now  for  the  first  tune  seemed  to  notice,  that, 
to  work  effectively,  he  stood  in  need  of  outward  means.  He 
entered  on  his  journe}7,  this  time,  in  a  temper  altogether  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  last ;  the  prospects  he  had  in  view  were 
charming ;  he  hoped  to  meet  with  something  cheerful  by  the 
way. 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  431 


CHAFFER  IX. 

ON  returning  to  Lothario's  castle,  Wilhelm  found  that 
changes  had  occurred.  Jarno  met  him  with  the  tidings,  that, 
Lothario's  uncle  being  dead,  the  baron  had  himself  set  out 
to  take  possession  of  the  heritage.  "You  come  in  time," 
said  he,  "to  help  the  abb6  and  me.  Lothario  has  commis- 
sioned us  to  purchase  some  extensive  properties  of  land  iu 
this  quarter :  he  has  long  contemplated  the  bargain,  and  we 
have  now  got  cash  and  credit  just  in  season.  The  only  point 
which  made  us  hesitate  was,  that  a  distant  trading-house  had 
also  views  upon  the  same  estates :  at  length  we  have  deter- 
mined to  make  common  cause  with  it,  as  otherwise  we  might 
outbid  each  other  without  need  or  reason.  The  trader  seems 
to  be  a  prudent  man.  At  present  we  are  making  estimates 
and  calculations :  we  must  also  settle  economically  how  the 
lands  are  to  be  shared,  so  that  each  of  us  may  have  a  fine 
estate."  The  papers  were  submitted  to  our  friend :  the 
fields,  meadows,  houses,  were  inspected  ;  and,  though  Jarno 
and  the  abbe  seemed  to  understand  the  matter  fully,  Wil- 
helm could  not  help  desiring  that  Theresa  had  been  with  them. 

In  these  labors  several  days  were  spent,  and  Wilhelm  had 
scarcely  time  to  tell  his  friends  of  his  adventures  and  his 
dubious  fatherhood.  This  incident,  to  him  so  interesting, 
they  treated  with  indifference  and  levity. 

He  had  noticed,  that  they  frequently  in  confidential  con- 
versation, while  at  table  or  in  walks,  would  suddenly  stop 
short,  and  give  their  words  another  application  ;  thereby 
showing,  at  least,  that  they  had  on  the  anvil  many  things 
which  were  concealed  from  him.  He  bethought  him  of  what 
Lydia  had  said ;  and  he  put  the  greater  faith  in  it,  as  one 
entire  division  of  the  castle  had  always  been  inaccessible  to 
him.  The  way  to  certain  galleries,  particularly  to  the  ancient 
tower,  with  which  externally  he  was  so  well  acquainted,  he  had 
often  sought,  and  hitherto  in  vain. 

One  evening  Jaruo  said  to  him,  "We  can  now  consider  you 
as  ours,  with  such  security,  that  it  were  unjust  i-f  we  did  not 
introduce  you  deeper  into  our  mysteries.  It  is  right  that  a 
man,  when  he  first  enters  upon  life,  should  think  highly  of 
himself,  should  determine  to  attain  many  eminent  distinctions, 
should  endeavor  to  make  all  things  possible  ;  but,  when  his 
education  has  proceeded  to  a  certain  pitch,  it  is  advantageous 
for  him,  that  he  learn  to  lose  himself  among  a  mass  of  men, 


432  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

that  he  learn  to  live  for  the  sake  of  others,  and  to  forget  him- 
self in  an  activity  prescribed  by  duty.  It  is  then  that  he 
first  becomes  acquaint3d  with  himself,  for  it  is  conduct  alone 
that  compares  us  with  others.  You  shall  soon  see  what  a 
curious  little  world  is  at  your  very  hand,  and  how  well  you 
are  known  in  it.  To-morrow  morning  before  sunrise  be 
dressed  and  ready." 

Jarno  came  at  the  appointed  hour :  he  led  our  friend 
through  certain  known  and  unknown  chambers  of  the  castle, 
then  through  several  galleries ;  till  at  last  they  reached  a 
large  old  door,  strongly  framed  with  iron.  Jaruo  knocked  : 
the  door  went  up  a  little,  so  as  to  admit  one  person.  Jarno 
shoved  in  our  friend,  but  did  not  follow  him.  Wilhelm  found 
himself  in  an  obscure  and  narrow  stand  :  all  was  dark  around 
him  ;  and,  when  he  tried  to  go  a  step  forward,  he  found  him- 
self hemmed  in.  A  voice  not  altogether  strange  to  him 
cried,  "Enter!  "  and  he  now  discovered  that  the  sides  of 
the  place  where  he  was  were  merely  hung  with  tapestry, 
through  which  a  feeble  light  glimmered  in  to  him.  "En- 
ter !  ' '  cried  the  voice  again :  he  raised  the  tapestry ,  and 
entered. 

The  hall  in  which  he  now  stood  appeared  to  have  at  one 
time  been  a  chapel :  instead  of  the  altar,  he  observed  a  large 
table  raised  some  steps  above  the  floor,  and  covered  with  a 
green  cloth  hanging  over  it.  On  the  top  of  this,  a  drawn 
curtain  seemed  as  if  it  hid  a  picture ;  on  the  sides  were 
spaces  beautifully  worked,  and  covered  in  with  fine  wire-net- 
ting, like  the  shelves  of  a  library ;  only  here,  instead  of 
books,  a  multitude  of  rolls  had  been  inserted.  Nobody  was 
in  the  hall :  the  rising  sun  shone  through  the  window,  right 
on  Wilhelm,  and  kindly  saluted  him  as  he  came  in. 

"  Be  seated  !  "  cried  a  voice,  which  seemed  to  issue  from 
the  altar.  Wilhelm  placed  himself  in  a  small  arm-chair,  which 
stood  against  the  tapestry  where  he  had  entered.  There  was 
no  seat  but  this  in  the  room  :  Wilhelm  had  to  be  content  with 
it,  though  the  morning  radiance  dazzled  him ;  the  chair  stood 
fast,  he  could  only  keep  his  hand  before  his  eyes. 

But  now. the  curtain,  which  hung  down  above  the  altar, 
went  asunder  with  a  gentle  rustling,  and  showed,  within  a 
picture-frame,  a  dark,  empty  aperture.  A  man  stepped  for- 
ward at  it,  in  a  common  dress,  saluted  the  astonished  looker- 
on,  and  said  to  him,  "  Do  you  not  recognize,  jne?  Amoug 
the  many  things  which  you  would  like  to  know,  do  you  feel 
no  curiosity  to  learn  where  your  grandfather's  collection  of 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  433 

pictures  and  statues  are  at  present?  Have  you  forgot  the 
painting  which  you  once  so  much  delighted  in  ?  Where,  think 
you,  is  the  sick  king's  son  now  languishing?"  Wilhelm, 
without  difficulty,  recognized  the  stranger,  whom,  in  that  im- 
portant night,  he  had  conversed  with  at  the  inn.  "  Per- 
haps," continued  his  interrogator,  "  we  should  now  be  less 
at  variance  in  regard  to  destiny  and  character. ' ' 

Wilhelm  was  about  to  answer,  when  the  curtain  quickly 
flew  together.  "  Strange  !  "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself :  "  can 
chance  occurrences  have  a  connection?  Is  what  we  call 
Destiny  but  Chance?  Where  is  my  grandfather's  collection? 
and  why  am  I  reminded  of  it  in  these  solemn  moments  ?  ' ' 

He  had  not  leisure  to  pursue  his  thoughts :  the  curtain 
once  more  parted  ;  and  a  person  stood  before  him,  whom  he 
instantly  perceived  to  be  the  country  clergyman  that  had 
attended  him  and  his  companions  on  that  pleasure-sail  of 
theirs.  He  had  a  resemblance  to  the  abbe,  though  he  seemed 
to  be  a  different  person.  With  a  cheerful  countenance,  in  a 
tone  of  dignity,  he  said,  "To  guard  from  error  is  not  the 
instructor's  duty,  but  to  lead  the  erring  pupil ;  nay,  to  let 
him  quaff  his  error  in  deep,  satiating  draughts,  this  is  the 
instructor's  wisdom.  He  who  only  tastes  his  error,  will  long 
dwell  with  it,  will  take  delight  in  it  as  in  a  singular  fe- 
licity ;  while  he  who  drains  it  to  the  dregs  will,  if  he  be  not 
crazy,  find  it  out."  The  curtain  closed  again,  and  Wilhelm 
had  a  little  time  to  think.  "  What  error  can  he  mean,"  said 
he  within  himself,  "  but  the  error  which  has  clung  to  me 
through  my  whole  life,  —  that  I  sought  for  cultivation  where 
it  was  not  to  be  found  ;  that  I  fancied  I  could  form  a  talent 
in  me,  while  without  the  smallest  gift  for  it?  " 

The  curtain  dashed  asunder  faster  than  before :  an  officer 
advanced,  and  said  in  passing,  "  Learn  to  know  the  men 
who  may  be  trusted!"  The  curtain  closed;  and  Wilhelm 
did  not  long  consider,  till  he  found  this  officer  to  be  the  one 
who  had  embraced  him  in  the  count's  park,  and  had  caused 
his  taking  Jarno  for  a  crimp.  How  that  stranger  had  come 
hither,  who  he  was,  were  riddles  to  our  friend.  "If  so 
many  men,"  cried  he,  "  took  interest  in  thee,  know  thy  way 
of  life,  and  how  it  should  be  carried  on,  why  did  they  not 
conduct  thee  with  greater  strictness,  with  greater  seriousness? 
Why  did  they  favor  thy  silly  sports,  instead  of  drawing  thee 
away  from  them  ?  ' ' 

"  Dispute  not  with  us  !  "  cried  a  voice.  "  Thou  art  saved, 
thou  art  on  the  way  to  the  goal.  None  of  thy  follies  wilt 


434  MINISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

• 

thou  repent ;  none  wilt  thou  wish  to  repeat ;  no  luckier 
destiny  can  be  allotted  to  a  man."  The  curtain  went  asun- 
der, and  in  full  armor  stood  the  old  king  of  Denmark  in  the 
space.  "  I  am  thy  father's  spirit,"  said  the  figure ;  "  and  I 
depart  in  comfort  since  my  wishes  for  thee  are  accomplished, 
in  a  higher  sense  than  I  myself  contemplated.  Steep  regions 
cannot  be  surmounted  save  by  winding  paths:  on  the  plain, 
straight  roads  conduct  from  place  to  place.  Farewell,  and 
think  of  me  when  thou  enjoyest  what  I  have  provided  for 
thee." 

Wilhelm  was  exceedingly  amazed  and  struck  :  he  thought 
it  was  his  father's  voice ;  and  yet  in  truth  it  was  not :  the 
present  and  the  past  alike  confounded  and  perplexed  him. 

He  had  not  meditated  long  when  the  abb6  came  to  view, 
and  placed  himself  behind  the  green  table.  "  Come  hither !  " 
cried  he  to  his  marvelling  friend.  He  went,  and  mounted  up 
the  steps.  On  the  green  cloth  lay  a  little  roll.  "  Here  is 
your  indenture,"  said  the  abbe  :  "  take  it  to  heart;  it  is  of 
weighty  import."  Wilhelm  lifted,  opened  it,  and  read :  — 


INDENTURE. 

Art  is  long,  life  short,  judgment  difficult,  opportunity 
transient.  To  act  is  easy,  to  think  is  hard  ;  to  act  accord- 
ing to  our  thought  is  troublesome.  Every  beginning  is  cheer- 
ful: the  threshold  is  the  place  of  expectation.  The  boy 
stands  astonished,  his  impressions  guide  him  :  he  learns  sport- 
fully, seriousness  comes  on  him  by  surprise.  Imitation  is 
born  with  us :  what  should  be  imitated  is  not  easy  to  dis- 
cover. The  excellent  is  rarely  found,  more  rarely  valued. 
The  height  charms  us,  the  steps  to  it  do  not :  with  the  summit 
in  our  eye,  we  love  to  walk  along  the  plain.  It  is  but  a  part 
of  art  that  can  be  taught:  the  artist  needs  it  all.  Who 
knows  it  half,  speaks  much,  and  is  always  wrong :  who 
knows  it  wholly,  inclines  to  act,  and  speaks  seldom  or  late. 
The  former  have  no  secrets  and  no  force :  the  instruction 
they  can  give  is  like  baked  bread,  savory  and  satisfying  for 
a  single  clay  ;  but  flour  cannot  be  sown,  and  seed-corn  ought 
not  to  be  ground.  Words  are  good,  but  they  are  not  the 
best.  The  best  is  not  to  be  explained  by  words.  The  spirit 
in  which  we  act  is  the  highest  matter.  Action  can  be  under- 
stood and  again  represented  by  the  spirit  alone.  No  one 
knows  what  he  is  doing  while  he  acts  aright,  but  of  what  is 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  435 

wrong  we  are  always  conscious.  Whoever  works  with  sym- 
bols only  is  a  pedant,  a  hypocrite,  or  a  bungler.  There  are 
many  such,  and  they  like  to  be  together.  Their  babbling 
detains  the  scholar :  their  obstinate  mediocrity  vexes  even 
the  best.  The  instruction  which  the  true  artist  gives  us 
opens  the  mind ;  for,  where  words  fail  him,  deeds  speak. 
The  true  scholar  learns  from  the  known  to  unfold  the  un- 
known, and  approaches  more  and  more  to  being  a  master. 

"Enough!"  cried  the  abb6 :  "the  rest  in  due  time. 
Now  look  round  you  among  these  cases." 

Wilhelm  went,  and  read  the  titles  of  the  rolls.  With  aston- 
ishment he  found,  "Lothario's  Apprenticeship,"  "Jarno's 
Apprenticeship,"  and  his  own  Apprenticeship  placed  there, 
with  many  others  whose  names  he  did  not  know. 

"  May  I  hope  to  cast  a  look  into  these  rolls?  " 

"  In  this  chamber  there  is  now  nothing  hid  from  you." 

"  May  I  put  a  question?  " 

"  Without  scruple  ;  and  you  may  expect  a  positive  reply, 
if  it  concerns  a  matter  which  is  nearest  your  heart,  and  ought 
to  be  so." 

"Good,  then!  Ye  marvellous  sages,  whose  sight  has 
pierced  so  many  secrets,  can  you  tell  me  whether  Felix  is  in 
truth  my  son  ?  ' ' 

"  Hail  to  you  for  this  question  !  "  cried  the  abb£,  clapping 
hands  for  joy.  "  Felix  is  your  son !  By  the  holiest  that 
lies  hid  among  us,  I  swear  to  you  Felix  is  your  son  ;  nor,  in 
our  opinion,  was  the  mother  that  is  gone  unworthy  of  you. 
Receive  the  lovely  child  from  our  hands :  turn  round,  and 
venture  to  be  happy." 

Wilhelm  heard  a  noise  behind  him  :  he  turned  round,  and 
saw  a  child's  face  peeping  archly  through  the  tapestry  at  the 
end  of  the  room  ;  it  was  Felix.  The  boy  playfully  hid  him- 
self so  soon  as  he  was  noticed.  "  Come  forward  !  "  cried 
the  abb6  :  he  came  running ;  his  father  rushed  towards  him, 
took  him  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  him  to  his  heart.  "  Yes  ! 
I  feel  it,"  cried  he,  "  thou  art  mine!  What  a  gift  of 
Heaven  have  I  to  thank  my  friends  for !  Whence  or  how 
comest  thou,  my  child,  at  this  important  moment?  " 

"  Ask  not,"  said  the  abbe.  "  Hail  to  thee,  }Toung  man  ! 
Thy  Apprenticeship  is  done:  Nature  has  pronounced  thee 
free." 


THE    HOUSEHOLD    EDITON. 


WILHELM  MEISTEE'S 


APPRENTICESHIP  AND  TRAVELS. 


tfje  ©crtnan. 


By    THOMAS    CARLYLE. 


IN   TWO  VOLUMES, 


VOL.  n. 


NEW  YORK: 
WORTHINGTON  CO.,  28  LAFAYETTE  PLACE, 

1885. 


Copyright, 
BV  S.  JK.  CASSINO, 

J8&2. 


TROWS 

HINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 
NEW  YORK, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 


BOOK  vm. 


CHAPTER  I, 

FELIX  skipped  into  the  garden;  "Wilhelm  followed  him 
with  rapture :  a  lovely  morning  was  displaying  every  thing 
with  fresh  charms ;  our  friend  enjoyed  the  most  delightful 
moment.  Felix  was  new  in  the  free  and  lordly  world,  nor 
did  his  father  know  much  more  than  he  about  the  objects 
concerning  which  the  little  creature  was  repeatedly  and  un- 
weariedly  inquiring.  At  last  they  joined  the  gardener,  who 
had  to  tell  them  the  names  and  uses  of  a  multitude  of  plauts. 
Wilhelm  looked  on  nature  as  with  unsealed  eyes :  the  child's 
new-fangled  curiosity  first  made  him  sensible  how  weak  an 
interest  he  himself  had  taken  in  external  things,  how  small 
his  actual  knowledge  was.  Not  till  this  day,  the  happiest  of 
his  life,  did  his  own  cultivation  seem  to  have  commenced : 
he  felt  the  necessity  of  learning,  being  called  upon  to  teach. 

Jarno  and  the  abbe  did  not  show  themselves  again  till 
evening,  when  they  brought  a  guest  along  with  them.  Wil- 
helm viewed  the  stranger  with  amazement ;  he  could  scarce 
believe  his  eyes  :  it  was  Werner,  who  likewise,  for  a  moment, 
hesitated  in  his  recognition.  They  embraced  each  other  ten- 
derly :  neither  of  them  could  conceal  that  he  thought  the 
other  greatly  altered.  Werner  declared  that  his  friend  was 
taller,  stronger,  straighter  ;  that  he  had  become  more  polished 
in  his  looks  and  carriage.  "  Something  of  his  old  true- 
heartedness  I  miss,  however,"  added  he.  "That,  too,  will 

5 


6  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

soon  appear  again,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  when  we  have  recovered 
from  our  first  astonishment." 

The  impression  Werner  made  upon  his  friend  was  by  no 
means  so  favorable.  The  honest  man  seemed  rather  to  have 
retrograded  than  advanced.  He  was  much  leaner  than  of 
old ;  his  peaked  face  appeared  to  have  grown  sharper,  his 
nose  longer ;  brow  and  crown  had  lost  their  hair ;  the  voice, 
clear,  eager,  shrill,  the  hollow  breast  and  stooping  shoulders, 
the  sallow  cheeks,  announced  indubitably  that  a  melancholic 
drudge  was  there. 

Wilhelm  was  discreet  enough  to  speak  but  sparingly  of 
these  great  changes ;  while  the  other,  on  the  contrary,  gave 
•free  course  to  his  friendly  joy.  "In  truth,"  cried  he,  "if 
thou  hast  spent  thy  time  badly,  and,  as  I  suppose,  gained 
nothing,  it  must  be  owned  thou  art  grown  a  piece  of  man- 
hood such  as  cannot  fail  to  turn  to  somewhat.  Do  not 
waste  and  squander  me  this,  too,  again :  with  such  a  figure 
thou  shalt  buy  some  rich  and  beautiful  heiress."  —  "I  see," 
said  Wilhelm,  smiling,  "thou  wilt  not  belie  thy  character. 
Scarcely  hast  thou  found  thy  brother  after  long  absence, 
when  thou  lookest  on  him  as  a  piece  of  goods,  a  thing  to 
speculate  on  and  make  profit  by." 

Jarno  and  the  abbe"  did  not  seem  at  all  astonished  at  this 
recognition :  they  allowed  the  two  to  expatiate  on  the  past 
and  present  as  they  pleased.  Werner  walked  round  and 
round  his  friend,  turned  him  to  this  side  and  to  that,  so  as 
almost  to  embarrass  him.  "  No  !  "  cried  he,  "  such  a  thing 
as  this  I  never  met  with,  and  yet  I  know  that  I  am  not  mis- 
taken. Tlry  eyes  are  deeper,  thy  brow  is  broader ;  thy  nose 
has  grown  finer,  thy  mouth  more  lovely.  Do  but  look  at 
him,  how  he  stands ;  how  it  all  suits  and  fits  together !  Well, 
idling  is  the  way  to  grow.  But  for  me,  poor  devil,"  said  he, 
looking  at  himself  in  the  glass,  "  if  I  had  not  all  this  while 
been  making  store  of  money,  it  were  over  with  me  alto- 
gether." 

Werner  had  got  Wilhelm's  last  letter :  the  distant  trading- 
house,  in  common  with  which  Lothario  meant  to  purchase 
the  estates,  was  theirs.  On  that  business  Werner  had  come 
hither,  not  dreaming  that  he  should  me«t  with  Wilhelm  on 
the  way.  The  baron's  lawyer  came :  tne  papers  were  pro- 
duced ;  Werner  reckoned  the  conditions  reasonable.  "  If 
you  mean  well,"  said  he,  "as  you  seem  to  do,  with  this 
young  man,  you  will  of  yourselves  take  care  that  our  part  be 
not  abridged :  it  shall  be  at  my  friend's  option  whether  he 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  7 

will  take  the  land  and  lay  out  a  portion  of  his  fortune  on 
it."  Jarno  and  the  abb6  protested  that  they  did  not  need 
this  admonition.  Scarcely  had  the  business  been  discussed 
in  general  terms,  when  Werner  signified  a  longing  for  a  game 
at  ombre ;  to  which,  in  consequence,  Jarno  and  the  abbe1 
set  themselves  along  with  him.  He  was  now  grown  so 
accustomed  to  it,  that  he.  could  not  pass  the  evening  without 
cards. 

The  two  friends,  after  supper,  being  left  alone,  began  to 
talk  and  question  one  another  very  keenly,  touching  every 
thing  they  wished  to  have  communicated.  Wilhelm  spoke 
in  high  terms  of  his  situation,  of  his  happiness  in  being  re- 
ceived among  such  men.  Werner  shook  his  head,  and  said, 
"  Well,  I  see,  we  should  believe  nothing  that  we  do  not  see 
with  our  eyes.  More  than  one  obliging  friend  assured  me 
thou  wert  living  with  a  wild  young  nobleman,  wert  supplying 
him  with  actresses,  helping  him  to  waste  his  money ;  that, 
by  thy  means,  he  had  quarrelled  with  every  one  of  his  rela- 
tions." —  "  For  my  own  sake,  and  the  sake  of  these  worthy 
gentlemen,  I  should  be  vexed  at  this,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  had 
not  my  theatrical  experience  made  me  tolerant  to  every  sort 
of  calumny.  How  can  men  judge  rightly  of  our  actions, 
which  appear  but  singly  or  in  fragments  to  them  ;  of  which 
they  see  the  smallest  portion ;  while  good  and  bad  take 
place  in  secret,  and  for  most  part  nothing  comes  to  light  but 
an  indifferent  show  ?  Are  not  the  actors  and  actresses  in  a 
play  set  up  on  boards  before  them ;  lamps  are  lit  on  every 
side  ;  the  whole  transaction  is  comprised  within  three  hours  \ 
yet  scarcely  one  of  them  knows  rightly  what  to  make  of  it?  " 

Our  friend  proceeded  to  inquire  about  his  family,  his 
young  comrades,  his  native  town.  Werner  told,  with  great 
haste,  of  changes  that  had  taken  place,  of  changes  that  were 
still  in  progress.  "  The  women  in  our  house,"  said  he,  "  ar£ 
satisfied  and  happy :  we  are  never  short  of  money.  Ono- 
half  of  their  time  they  spend  in  dressing,  the  o^her  in  show- 
ing themselves  when  dressed.  They  are  as  domestic  as  a 
reasonable  man  could  wish.  My  boys  are  growing  up  to 
prudent  youths.  I  already,  as  in  vision,  see  them  sitting, 
writing,  reckoning,  running,  trading,  trucking :  each  of  them, 
as  soon  as  possible,  shall  have  a  business  of  his  own.  As 
to  what  concerns  our  fortune,  thou  wilt  be  contented  with  the 
state  of  it.  When  we  have  got  these  lands  in  order,  thou 
must  come  directly  home  with  me  ;  for  it  now  appears  as  if 
thou,  too,  couldst  mingle  with  some  skill  in  worldly  undertak- 


8  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ings,  thanks  to  thy  new  friends,  who  have  set  thee  on  the 
proper  path.  I  am  certainly  a  fool :  I  never  knew  till  now 
how  well  I  liked  thee,  —  now  when  I  cannot  gape  and  gaze  at 
thee  enough,  so  well  and  handsome  thou  lookest.  That  is,  in 
truth,  another  form  than  the  portrait  which  was  sent  thy  sis- 
ter, which  occasioned  such  disputes  at  home.  Both  mother 
and  daughter  thought  young  master  very  handsome  indeed, 
with  his  slack  collar,  half-open  breast,  large  ruff,  sleek,  pen- 
dent hair,  round  hat,  short  waistcoat,  and  wide  pantaloons ; 
while  I,  on  the  other  hand,  maintained  that  the  costume  was 
scarce  two  finger-breadths  from  that  of  harlequin.  But  now 
thou  lookest  like  a  man :  only  the  cue  is  wanting,  in  which  I 
beg  of  thee  to  bind  thy  hair ;  else,  some  time  or  other,  they 
will  seize  thee  as  a  Jew,  and  demand  toll  and  tribute  of 
thee." 

Felix,  in  the  mean  time,  had  come  into  the  room ;  and,  as 
they  did  not  mind  him,  he  had  laid  himself  upon  the  sofa, 
and  was  fallen  asleep.  "What  urchin  is  this?"  said  Wer- 
ner. Wilhelm  at  that  moment  had  not  the  heart  to  tell  the 
truth,  nor  did  he  wish  to  lay  a  still  ambiguous  narrative  be- 
fore a  man  who  was  by  nature  any  thing  but  credulous. 

The  whole  party  now  proceeded  to  the  lands,  to  view  them, 
and  conclude  the  bai'gain.  Wilhelm  would  not  part  with 
Felix  from  his  side :  for  the  boy's  sake,  he  rejoiced  exceed- 
ingly in  the  intended  purchase.  The  longing  of  the  child  for 
cherries  and  berries,  the  season  for  which  was  at  hand, 
brought  to  his  mind  the  days  of  his  own  youth,  and  the 
manifold  duties  of  a  father,  to  prepare,  to  procure,  and  to 
maintain  for  his  family  a  constant  series  of  enjoj'ments. 
With  what  interest  he  viewed  the  nurseries  and  the  buildings  ! 
How  zealously  he  contemplated  repairing  what  had  been 
neglected,  restoring  what  had  fallen !  He  no  longer  looked 
upon  the  world  with  the  eyes  of  a  bird  of  passage  :  an  edifice 
he  did  not  now  consider  as  a  grove  that  is  hastily  put  to- 
gether, and  that  withers  ere  one  leaves  it.  Every  thing  that 
he  proposed  commencing  was  to  be  completed  for  his  boy  : 
every  thing  that  he  erected  was  to  last  for  several  genera- 
tions. In  this  sense  his  apprenticeship  was  ended:  with 
the  feeling  of  a  father,  he  had  acquired  all  the  virtues  of  a 
citizen.  He  felt  this,  and  nothing  could  exceed  his  joy.  "  O 
needless  strictness  of  morality !  "  exclaimed  he,  "  while 
Nature  in  her  own  kindly  manner  trains  us  to  all  that  we 
require  to  be.  O  strange  demands  of  civil  society !  which 
first  perplexes  and  misleads  us,  then  asks  of  us  more  than 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  9 

Nature  herself.  Woe  to  every  sort  of  culture  which  destroys 
the  most  effectual  means  of  all  true  culture,  and  directs  us 
to  the  end,  instead  of  rendering  us  happy  on  the  way !  " 

Much  as  he  had  already  seen  in  his  life,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  observation  of  the  child  afforded  him  his  first  clear  view 
of  human  nature.  The  theatre,  the  world,  had  appeared 
before  him,  only  as  a  multitude  of  thrown  dice,  every  one 
of  which  upon  its  upper  surface  indicates  a  greater  or  a 
smaller  value,  and  which,  when  reckoned  up  together,  make 
a  sum.  But  here  in  the  person  of  the  boy,  as  we  might  say, 
a  single  die  was  laid  before  him,  on  the  many  sides  of  which 
the  worth  and  worthlessness  of  man's  nature  were  legibly 
engraved. 

The  child's  desire  to  have  distinctions  made  in  his  ideas 
grew  stronger  every  day.  Having  learned  that  things  had 
names,  he  wished  to  hear  the  name  of  every  thing :  supposing 
that  there  could  be  nothing  which  his  father  did  not  know, 
he  often  teased  him  with  his  questions,  and  caused  him  to 
iuquire  concerning  objects  which,  but  for  this,  he  would  have 
passed  without  notice.  Our  innate  tendency  to  pry  into  the 
origin  and  end  of  things  was  likewise  soon  developed  in  the 
boy.  When  he  asked  whence  came  the  wind,  and  whither 
went  the  flame,  his  father  for  the  first  time  truly  felt  the 
limitation  of  his  own  powers,  and  wished  to  understand  how 
far  man  may  venture  with  his  thoughts,  and  what  things  he 
may  hope  ever  to  give  account  of  to  himself  or  others.  The 
anger  of  the  child,  when  he  saw  injustice  done  to  any  living 
thing,  was  extremely  grateful  to  the  father,  as  the  symptom 
of  a  generous  heart.  Felix  once  struck  fiercely  at  the  cook 
for  cutting  up  some  pigeons.  The  fine  impression  this  pro- 
duced on  Wilhelm  was,  indeed,  erelong  disturbed,  when  he 
found  the  boy  unmercifully  tearing  sparrows  in  pieces  and 
beating  frogs  to  death.  This  trait  reminded  him  of  many 
men,  who  appear  so  scrupulously  just  when  without  pas- 
sion, and  witnessing  the  proceedings  of  other  men. 

The  pleasant  feeling,  that  the  boy  was  producing  so  fine 
and  wholesome  an  influence  on  his  being,  was,  in  a  short 
time,  troubled  for  a  moment,  when  our  friend  observed,  that 
in  truth  the  boy  was  educating  him  more  than  he  the  boy. 
The  child's  conduct  he  was  not  qualified  to  correct :  its  mind 
he  could  not  guide  in  any  path  but  a  spontaneous  one.  The 
evil  habits  which  Aurelia  had  so  violently  striven  against  had 
all,  as  it  seemed,  on  her  death,  assumed  their  ancient  privi- 
leges. Felix  still  never  shut  the  door  behind  him,  he  still 


10  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

would  not  eat  from  a  plate ;  and  no  greater  pleasure  could 
befall  him  than  when  he  happened  to  be  overlooked,  and 
could  take  his  bit  immediately  from  the  dish,  or  let  the  full 
glass  stand,  and  drink  out  of  the  bottle.  He  delighted  also 
very  much  when  he  could  set  himself  in  a  corner  with  a  book, 
and  say  with  a  serious  air,  ' '  I  must  study  this  scholar  stuff !  ' ' 
though  he  neither  knew  his  letters,  nor  would  learn  them. 

Thus,  when  Wilhelm  thought  how  little  he  had  done  for 
Felix,  how  little  he  was  capable  of  doing,  there  arose  at  times 
a  restlessness  within  him,  which  appeared  to  counterbalance 
all  his  happiness.  "Are  we  men,  then,"  said  he,  "  so  selfishly 
formed,  that  we  cannot  possibly  take  proper  charge  of  any 
one  without  us  ?  Am  I  not  acting  with  the  boy  exactly  as  I 
did  with  Mignon  ?  I  drew  the  dear  child  towards  me :  her 
presence  gave  me  pleasure,  yet  I  cruelly  neglected  her. 
"What  did  I  do  for  her  education,  which  she  longed  for  with 
such  earnestness  ?  Nothing !  I  left  her  to  herself,  and  to 
all  the  accidents  to  which,  in  a  society  of  coarse  people,  she 
could  be  exposed.  And  now  for  this  boy,  who  seemed  so 
interesting  before  he  could  be  precious  to  thee,  has  thy  heart 
ever  bid  thee  do  the  smallest  service  to  him  ?  It  is  time  that 
thou  shouldst  cease  to  waste  thy  own  years  and  those  of 
others  :  awake,  and  think  what  thou  shouldst  do  for  th}7self , 
and  for  this  good  being,  whom  love  and  nature  have  so 
firmly  bound  to  thee." 

This  soliloquy  was  but  an  introduction  to  admit  that  he 
had  already  thought  and  cared,  and  tried  and  chosen :  he 
could  delay  no  longer  to  confess  it.  After  sorrow,  often 
and  in  vain  repeated,  for  the  loss  of  Mariana,  he  distinctly 
felt  that  he  must  seek  a  mother  for  the  boy ;  and  also  that 
he  could  not  find  one  equal  to  Theresa,  With  this  gifted 
lady  he  was  thoroughly  acquainted.  Such  a  spouse  and 
helpmate  seemed  the  only  one  to  trust  one's  self  to  in  such 
circumstances.  Her  generous  affection  for  Lothario  did  not 
make  him  hesitate.  By  a  singular  destiny,  they  two  had 
been  forever  parted :  Theresa  looked  upon  herself  as  free ; 
she  had  talked  of  marrying,  with  indifference,  indeed,  but 
as  of  a  matter  understood. 

After  long  deliberation  he  determined  on  communicating 
to  her  every  thing  he  knew  about  himself.  She  was  to  be 
made  acquainted  with  him,  as  he  already  was  with  her.  He 
accordingly  began  to  take  a  survey  of  his  history ;  but  it 
seemed  to  him  so  empty  of  events,  and  in  general  so  little  to 
his  credit,  that  he  more  than  once  was  on  the  point  of  giving 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.*  11 

up  his  purpose.  At  last,  however,  he  resolved  on  asking 
Jarno  for  the  Roll  of  his  Apprenticeship,  which  he  had  no- 
ticed lying  in  the  tower :  Jarno  said  it  was  the  very  time  for 
that,  and  Wilhelm  consequently  got  it. 

It  is  a  feeling  of  awe  and  fear  which  seizes  on  a  man  of 
noble  mind  when  conscious  that  his  character  is  just  about 
to  be  exhibited  before  him.  Every  transition  is  a  crisis,  and 
a  crisis  presupposes  sickness.  With  what  reluctance  do  we 
look  into  the  glass  after  rising  from  a  sick-bed !  The  re- 
covery we  feel :  the  effects  of  the  past  disease  are  all  we  see. 
Wilhelm  had,  however,  been  sufficiently  prepared :  events 
had  already  spoken  loudly  to  him,  and  his  friends  had  not 
spared  him.  If  he  opened  the  roll  of  parchment  with  some 
hurry,  he  grew  calmer  and  calmer  the  farther  he  read.  He 
found  his  life  delineated  with  large,  sharp  strokes ;  neither' 
unconnected  incidents,  nor  narrow  sentiments,  perplexed  his 
view  ;  the  most  bland  and  general  reflections  taught,  without 
shaming  him.  For  the  first  time  his  own  figure  was  pre- 
sented to  him,  not,  indeed,  as  in  a  mirror,  a  second  self, 
but  as  in  a  portrait,  another  self :  we  do  not,  it  is  trae,  rec- 
ognize ourselves  in  every  feature  ;  but  we  are  delighted  that 
a  thinking  spirit  has  so  understood  us,  that  such  gifts  have 
been  employed  in  representing  us,  that  an  image  of  what 
we  were  exists,  and  may  endure  when  we  ourselves  are 
gone. 

Wilhelm  next  employed  himself  in  setting  forth  the  history 
of  his  life,  for  the  perusal  of  Theresa :  all  the  circumstances 
of  it  were  recalled  to  memory  by  what  he  had  been  reading ; 
he  almost  felt  ashamed  that  to  her  great  virtues  he  had  noth- 
ing to  oppose  which  indicated  a  judicious  activity.  He  had 
been  minute  in  his  written  narrative :  he  was  brief  in  the 
letter  which  he  sent  along  with  it.  He  solicited  her  friend- 
ship, her  love  if  it  were  possible :  he  offered  her  his  hand, 
and  entreated  for  a  quick  decision. 

After  some  internal  contest,  whether  it  were  proper  to  im- 
part this  weighty  business  to  his  friends, — to  Jarno  and  the 
abb6,  —  he  determined  not  to  do  so.  His  resolution  was  so 
firm,  the  business  was  of  such  importance,  that  he  could  not 
have  submitted  it  to  the  decision  of  the  wisest  and  best  of 
men.  He  was  even  cautious  encugh  to  carry  his  letter  with 
his  own  hand  to  the  nearest  pest-  From  his  parchment- 
roll  it  appeared  with  certainty  enough,  that  in  very  many 
actions  of  his  life,  in  which  he  had  conceived  himself  to  be 
proceeding  freely  and  in  secret,  he  had  been  observed,  nay, 


12  *MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

guided ;  and  perhaps  the  thought  of  this  had  given  him  an 
unpleasant  feeling :  and  he  wished  at  least,  in  speaking  to 
Theresa's  heart,  to  speak  purely  from  the  heart,  —  to  owe 
his  fate  to  her  decision  and  determination  only.  Hence,  in 
this  solemn  point,  he  scrupled  not  to  give  his  overseers  the 
slip. 


CHAPTER  H. 

SCAKCELY  was  the  letter  gone,  when  Lothario  returned. 
Every  one  was  gladdened  at  the  prospect  of  so  speedily  con- 
cluding the  important  business  which  they  had  in  hand. 
Wilhelm  waited  with  anxiety  to  see  how  all  these  many 
threads  were  to  be  loosed,  or  tied  anew,  and  how  his  own 
future  state  was  to  be  settled.  Lothario  gave  a  kindly  salu- 
tation to  them  all :  he  was  quite  recovered  and  serene ;  he 
had  the  air  of  one  who  knows  what  he  should  do,  and  who 
finds  no  hinderance  in  the  way  of  doing  it. 

His  cordial  greeting  Wilhelm  could  scarcely  repay.  "  This," 
he  had  to  own  within  himself,  "  is  the  friend,  the  lover,  bride- 
groom, of  Theresa :  in  his  stead  thou  art  presuming  to  in- 
trude. Dost  thou  think  it  possible  for  thee  to  banish,  to 
obliterate,  an  impression  such  as  this?  "  Had  the  letter  not 
been  sent  away,  perhaps  he  would  not  have  ventured  sending 
it  at  all.  But  happily  the  die  was  cast :  it  might  be,  Theresa 
had  already  taken  up  her  resolution,  and  only  distance 
shrouded  with  its  veil  a  happy  termination.  The  winning  or 
the  losing  must  soon  be  decided.  By  such  considerations 
he  endeavored  to  compose  himself,  and  yet  the  movements 
of  his  heart  were  almost  feverish.  He  could  give  but  little 
attention  to  the  weighty  business,  on  which,  in  some  degree, 
the  fate  of  his  whole  property  depended.  In  passionate  mo- 
ments how  trivial  do  we  reckon  all  that  is  about  us,  all  that 
belongs  to  us ! 

Happily  for  him,  Lothario  treated  the  affair  with  magna- 
nimity, and  Werner  with  an  air  of  ease.  The  latter,  in  his 
violent  desire  of  gain,  experienced  a  lively  pleasure  in  con- 
templating the  fine  estate  which  was  to  be  his  friend's.  Lo- 
thario, for  his  part,  seemed  to  be  revolving  very  different 
thoughts.  "  I  cannot  take  such  pleasure  in  the  acquirement 
of  property,"  said  he,  "  as  in  the  justness  of  it." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  13 

"And,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,"  cried  Werner,  "is  not 
this  of  ours  acquired  justly?  " 

"  Not  altogether,"  said  Lothario. 

"  Are  we  not  giving  hard  cash  for  it?  " 

"  Doubtless,"  replied  Lothario  ;  "  and  most  probably  you 
will  consider  what  I  am  now  hinting  at  as  nothing  but  a 
whim.  No  property  appears  to  me  quite  just,  quite  free  of 
flaw,  except  it  contribute  to  the  state  its  due  proportion." 

"What!"  said  Werner.  "You  would  rather  that  our 
lands,  which  we  have  purchased  free  from  burden,  had  been 
taxable?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Lothario,  "in  a  suitable  degree.  It  is 
only  by  this  equality  with  every  other  kind  of  property,  that 
our  possession  of  it  can  be  made  secure.  In  these  new 
times,  when  so  many  old  ideas  are  tottering,  what  is  the 
grand  reason  why  the  peasant  reckons  the  possession  of  the 
noble  less  equitable  than  his  own  ?  Simply  that  the  noble  is 
not  burdened,  and  lies  a  burden  on  him." 

"  But  how  would  the  interest  of  our  capital  agree  with 
that?  "  said  Werner. 

" Perfectly  well,"  returned  the  other ;  "if  the  state,  for  a 
regular  and  fair  contribution,  would  relieve  us  from  the  feudal 
hocus-pocus ;  would  allow  us  to  proceed  with  our  lands  ac- 
cording to  our  pleasure :  so  that  we  were  not  compelled  to 
retain  such  masses  of  them  undivided,  so  that  we  might  part 
them  more  equally  among  our  children,  whom  we  might  thus 
introduce  to  vigorous  and  free  activit}',  instead  of  leaving 
them  the  poor  inheritance  of  these  our  limited  and  limiting 
privileges,  to  enjoy  which  we  must  ever  be  invoking  the 
ghosts  of  our  forefathers.  How  much  happier  were  men  and 
women  in  our  rank  of  life,  if  they  might,  with  unforbidden 
eyes,  look  round  them,  and  elevate  by  their  selection,  here  a 
worthy  maiden,  there  a  worthy  3Touth,  regarding  nothing  fur- 
ther than  their  own  ideas  of  happiness  in  marriage !  The 
state  would  have  more,  perhaps  better  citizens,  and  would 
not  so  often  be  distressed  for  want  of  heads  and  hands." 

"I  can  assure  you  honestly,"  said  Werner,  "I  never  in 
my  life  thought  about  the  state :  my  taxes,  tolls,  and  tributes 
I  have  paid,  because  it  was  the  custom." 

"  Still,  however,"  said  Lothario,  "  I  hope  to  make  a  wor- 
thy patriot  of  you.  As  he  alone  is  a  good  father  who  at 
table  serves  his  children  first ;  so  is  he  alone  a  good  citizen 
who,  before  all  other  outlays,  discharges  what  he  owes  the 
state." 


14  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

By  such  general  reflections  their  special  business  was  ac- 
celerated rather  than  retarded.  It  was  nearly  over,  when 
Lothario  said  to  Wilhelm,  "  I  must  send  you  to  a  place 
where  you  are  needed  more  than  here.  My  sister  bids  me 
beg  of  you  to  go  to  her  as  soon  as  possible.  -Poor  Mignon 
seems  to  be  decaying  more  and  more,  and  it  is  thought  your 
presence  might  allay  the  malady.  Besides  telling  me  in  per- 
son, my  sister  has  despatched  this  note  af^er  me :  so  that 
you  perceive  she  reckons  it  a  pressing  case."  Lothario 
handed  him  a  billet.  Wilhelm,  who  had  listened  in  extreme 
perplexity,  at  once  discovered  in  these  hasty  pencil-strokes 
the  hand  of  the  countess,  and  knew  not  what  to  answer. 

"Take  Felix  with  you,"  said  Lothario:  "the  little  ones 
will  cheer  each  other.  You  must  be  upon  the  road  to-morrow 
morning  early :  my  sister's  coach,  in  which  my  people  trav- 
elled hither,  is  still  here ;  I  will  give  you  horses  half  the 
way,  the  rest  you  post.  A  prosperous  journey  to  you ! 
Make  many  compliments  from  me,  when  you  arrive :  tell  my 
sister  I  shall  soon  be  back,  and  that  she  must  prepare  for 
guests.-  Our  grand-uncle's  friend,  the  Marchese  Cipriani, 
is  on  his  way  to  visit  us :  he  hoped  to  find  the  old  man  still 
in  life ;  they  meant  to  entertain  each  other  "with  their  com- 
mon love  of  art,  and  the  recollection  of  their  early  intimacy. 
The  marchese,  much  younger  than  my  uncle,  owed  to  him 
the  greater  part  of  his  accomplishments.  We  must  exert 
all  our  endeavors  to  fill  up,  in  some  measure,  the  void  which 
is  awaiting  him  ;  and  a  larger  party  is  the  readiest  means." 

Lothario  went  with  the  abbe  to  his  chamber ;  Jarno  had 
ridden  off  before ;  Wilhelm  hastened  to  his  room.  There 
was  none  to  whom  he  could  unbosom  his  distress,  none  by 
whose  assistance  he  could  turu  aside  the  project,  which  he 
111  viewed  with  so  much  fear.  The  little  servant  came,  request- 
ing him  to  pack :  they  were  to  put  the  luggage  on  to-night, 
meaning  to  set  out  by  daybreak.  Wilhelm  knew  not  what  to 
do:  at  length  he  cried,  "  Well,  I  shall  leave  this  house  at 
any  rate ;  on  the  road  I  may  consider  what  is  to  be  done ; 
at  all  events,  I  will  halt  in  the  middle  of  my  journey  ;  I  can 
send  a  message  hither,  I  can  write  what  I  recoil  from  say- 
ing, then  let  come  of  it  what  will."  In  spite  of  this  reso- 
lution, he  spent  a  sleepless  night :  a  look  on  Felix  resting  so 
serenely  was  the  only  thing  that  gave  him  any  solace.  "  Oh, 
who  knows,"  cried  he,  "what  trials  are  before  me!  who 
knows  how  sharply  by-gone  errors  will  yet  punish  me,  how 
often  good  and  reasonable  projects  for  the  future  shall  mis- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  15 

carry !  But  this  treasure,  which  I  call  my  own,  continue  it  to 
me,  thou  exorable  or  inexorable  Fate  !  Were  it  possible  that 
this  best  part  of  myself  were  taken  from  me,  that  this  heart 
could  be  torn  from  my  heart,  then  farewell  sense  and  under- 
standing ;  farewell  all  care  and  foresight ;  vanish  thou  ten- 
dency to  perseverance !  All  that  distinguishes  us  from  the 
beasts,  pass  away !  And,  if  it  is  not  lawful  for  a  man  to 
end  his  heavy  da}-s  by  the  act  of  his  own  hand,  may  speedy 
madness  banish  consciousness,  before  death,  which  destroys 
it  forever,  shall  bring  on  his  own  long  night." 

He  seized  the  boy  in  his  arms,  kissed  him,  clasped  him, 
and  wetted  him  with  plenteous  tears. 

The  child  awoke  :  his  clear  eye,  his  friendly  look,  touched 
his  father  to  the  inmost  heart.  "  What  a  scene  awaits  me," 
cried  he,  "when  I  shall  present  thee  to  the  beautiful,  un- 
happy countess,  when  she  shall  press  thee  to  her  bosom, 
which  thy  father  has  so  deeply  injured !  Ought  I  not  to 
fear  that  she  will  push  thee  from  her  with  a  cry,  when  a 
touch  of  thee  renews  her  real  or  fancied  pain  ?  ' '  The  coach- 
man did  not  leave  him  time  for  further  thought  or  hesitation, 
but  forced  him  into  the  carriage  before  day.  Wilhelm 
wrapped  his  Felix  well ;  the  morning  was  cold  but  clear : 
the  child,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  saw  the  sun  rise. 
His  astonishment  at  the  first  fiery  glance  of  the  luminary, 
at  the  growing  power  of  the  light ;  his  pleasure  and  his 
strange  remarks, — rejoiced  the  father,  and  afforded  him  a 
glimpse  into  the  heart  of  the  boy,  before  which,  as  over  a 
clear  and  silent  sea,  the  sun  was  mounting  and  hovering. 

In  a  little  town  the  coachman  halted,  unyoked  his  horses, 
and  rode  back.  Wilhelm  took  possession  of  a  room,  and 
asked  himself  seriously  whether  he  would  stay  or  proceed. 
Thus  irresolute,  he  ventured  to  take  out  the  little  note,  which 
hitherto  he  had  never  had  the  heart  to  look  on  :  it  contained 
the  following  words:  "Send  thy  young  friend  very  soon: 
Mignon  for  the  last  two  days  has  been  growing  rather  worse. 
Sad  as  the  occasion  is,  I  shall  be  happy  to  get  acquainted 
with  him." 

The  concluding  words  Wilhelm,  at  the  first  glance,  had 
not  seen.  He  was  terrified  on  reading  them,  and  instantly  de- 
termined not  to  go.  "How?"  cried  he,  "  Lothario,  know- 
ing what  occurred  between  us,  has  not  told  her  who  I  am  ? 
She  is  not,  with  a  settled  mind,  expecting  an  acquaintance, 
whom  she  would  rather  not  see :  she  expects  a  stranger,  — 
and  I  enter !  I  see  her  shudder  and  start  back,  I  see  her 


16  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

blush !  No,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  encounter  such  a 
scene!"  Just  then  his  horses  were  led  out  and  yoked: 
Wilhelm  was  determined  to  take  off  his  luggage  and  remain. 
He  felt  extremely  agitated.  Hearing  the  maid  running  up 
stairs  to  tell  him,  as  he  thought,  that  all  was  ready,  he  began 
on  the  spur  of  the  instant  to  devise  some  pretext  for  continu- 
ing :  his  eyes  were  fixed,  without  attention,  on  the  letter 
which  he  still  held  in  his  hand.  "  In  the  name  of  Heaven !  " 
cried  he,  "  what  is  this?  It  is  not  the  hand  of  the  countess  : 
it  is  the  hand  of  the  Amazon  !  " 

The  maid  came  in,  requested  him  to  walk  down,  and  took 
Felix  with  her.  "Is  it  possible,"  exclaimed  he,  "  is  it  true? 
What  shall  I  do?  Remain,  and  wait,  and  certify  myself? 
Or  hasten,  hasten,  and  rush  into  an  explanation?  Thou  art 
on  the  way  to  her,  and  thou  canst  loiter?  This  night  thou 
mayest  see  her,  and  thou  wilt  voluntarily  lock  thyself  in 
prison  ?  It  is  her  hand ;  yes,  it  is  hers !  This  hand  calls 
thee  :  her  coach  is  yoked  to  lead  thee  to  her !  Now  the  rid- 
dle is  explained :  Lothario  has  two  sisters ;  my  relation  to 
the  one  he  knows,  how  much  I  owe  to  the  other  is  unknown 
to  him.  Nor  is  she  aware  that  the  wounded  stroller,  who 
stands  indebted  to  her  for  his  health,  if  not  his  life,  has  been 
received  with  such  unmerited  attention  in  her  brother's 
house." 

Felix,  who  was  swinging  to  and  fro  in  the  coach,  cried  up 
to  him,  "  Father !  Come,  oh  come !  Look  at  the  pretty 
clouds,  the  pretty  colors !  "  —  "  Yes,  I  come,"  cried  Wilhelm, 
springing  down-stairs;  "and  all  the  glories  of  the  sky, 
which  thou,  good  creature,  so  admirest,  are  as  nothing  to  the 
moment  which  I  look  for." 

Sitting  in  the  coach,  he  recalled  all  the  circumstances  of 
the  matter  to  his  memory.  "  So  this  is  the  Natalia,  then, 
Theresa's  friend !  What  a  discovery !  what  hopes,  what 
prospects  !  How  strange  that  the  fear  of  speaking  about  the 
one  sister  should  have  altogether  concealed  from  me  the  ex- 
istence of  the  other ! ' '  With  what  joy  he  looked  on  Felix  ! 
He  anticipated  for  the  child,  as  for  himself,  the  best  recep- 
tion. 

Evening  at  last  came  on  ;  the  sun  had  set ;  the  road  was 
not  the  best ;  the  postilion  drove  slowly ;  Felix  had  fallen 
asleep,  and  new  cares  and  doubts  arose  in  the  bosom  of  our 
friend.  "  What  delusion,  what  fantasies,  are  these  that  rule 
thee!"  said  he  to  himself.  "An  uncertain  similarity  of 
handwriting  has  at  once  assured  thee,  and  given  thee  matter 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  17 

for  the  strangest  castles  in  the  air."  He  again  brought  out 
the  paper ;  in  the  departing  light  he  again  imagined  that  he 
recognized  the  hand  of  the  countess :  his  eyes  could  no 
longer  find  in  the  parts  what  his  heart  had  at  once  shown 
him -in  the  whole.  "These  horses,  then,  are  running  with 
thee  to  a  scene  of  terror !  Who  knows  but  in  a  few  hours 
they  may  have  to  bring  thee  back  again?  And  if  thou 
shouldst  meet  with  her  alone !  But  perhaps  her  husband 
will  be  there,  perhaps  the  baroness !  How  altered  will  she 
be !  Shall  I  not  fail,  and  sink  to  the  earth,  at  sight  of 
her?" 

Yet  a  faint  hope  that  it  might  be  his  Amazon  would  often 
gleam  through  these  gloomy  thoughts.  It  was  now  night : 
the  carriage  rolled  into  a  court-yard,  and  halted ;  a  ser- 
vant with  a  link  stepped  out  of  a  stately  portal,  and  came 
down  the  broad  steps  to  the  carriage-door.  "You  have 
been  long  looked  for,"  said  he,  opening  it.  Wilhelm  dis- 
mounted, took  the  sleeping  Felix  in  his  arms :  the  first  ser- 
vant called  to  a  second,  who  was  standing  in  the  door  with 
a  light,  "  Show  the  gentleman  up  to  the  baroness." 

Quick  as  lightning,  it  went  through  Wilhelm's  soul,  "  What 
a  happiness  !  Be  it  by  accident  or  of  purpose,  the  baroness 
is  here !  I  shall  see  her  first :  apparently  the  countess  has 
retired  to  rest.  Ye  good  spirits,  grant  that  the  moment  of 
deepest  perplexity  may  pass  tolerably  over !  " 

He  entered  the  house :  he  found  himself  in  the  most  ear- 
nest, and,  as  he  almost  felt,  the  holiest,  place  that  he  had 
ever  trod.  A  pendent,  dazzling  lustre  threw  its  light  upon  a 
broad  and  softly  rising  flight  of  stairs,  which  lay  before  him, 
and  which  parted  into  two  divisions  at  a  turn  above.  Mar- 
ble statues  and  busts  were  standing  upon  pedestals,  and 
arranged  in  niches:  some  of  them  seemed  known  to  him. 
The  impressions  of  our  childhood  abide  with  us,  even  in  their 
minutest  traces.  He  recognized  a  Muse,  which  had  for- 
merly belonged  to  his  grandfather,  not  indeed  by  its  form 
or  worth,  but  by  an  arm  which  had  been  restored,  and  some 
new-inserted  pieces  of  the  robe.  He  felt  as  if  a  fairy-tale 
had  turned  out  to  be  true.  The  child  was  heavy  in  his  arms  : 
he  lingered  on  the  stairs,  and  knelt  down,  as  if  to  place  him 
more  conveniently.  His  real  want,  however,  was  to  get  a 
moment's  breathing-time.  He  could  scarcely  raise  himself 
again.  The  servant,  who  was  carrying  the  light,  offered  to 
take  Felix ;  but  Wilhelm  could  not  part  with  him.  He  had 
now  mounted  to  an  ante-chamber,  in  which,  to  his  still 


18  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

greater  astonishment,  he  observed  the  well-known  picture  of 
the  sick  king's  son  hanging  on  the  wall.  He  had  scarcely 
time  to  cast  a  look  on  it :  the  servant  hurried  him  along 
through  two  rooms  into  a  cabinet.  Here,  behind  a  light- 
screen,  which  threw  a  shadow  on  her,  sat  a  young  lady 
reading.  "  Oh  that  it  were  she  !  "  said  he  within  himself  at 
this  decisive  moment.  He  set  down  the  boy,  who  seemed  to 
be  awakening ;  he  meant  to  approach  the  lady  ;  but  the  child 
sank  together,  drunk  with  sleep ;  the  lady  rose  and  came  to 
him.  It  was  the  Amazon  !  Unable  to  restrain  himself,  he 
fell  upon  his  knee,  and  cried,  "It  is  she !  "  He  seized  her 
hand,  and  kissed  it  with  unbounded  rapture.  The  child  was 
lying  on  the  carpet  between  them,  sleeping  softly. 

Felix  was  carried  to  the  sofa :  Natalia  sat  down  beside 
him ;  she  directed  Wilhelm  to  the  chair  which  was  standing 
nearest  them.  She  proposed  to  order  some  refreshments ; 
these  our  friend  declined:  he  was  altogether  occupied  con- 
vincing himself  that  it  was  she,  closely  examining  her 
features,  shaded  by  the  screen,  and  accurately  recognizing 
them.  She  told  him  of  Mignon's  sickness,  in  general  terms ; 
that  the  poor  child  was  gradually  consuming  under  the  in- 
fluence of  a  few  deep  feelings ;  that  with  her  extreme  ex- 
citability, and  her  endeavoring  to  hide  it,  her  little  heart 
often  suffered  violent  and  dangerous  pains ;  that,  on  any 
unexpected  agitation  of  her  mind,  this  primary  organ  of  life 
would  suddenly  stop,  and  no  trace  of  the  vital  movement 
could  be  felt  in  the  good  child's  bosom ;  that,  when  such 
an  agonizing  cramp  was  past,  the  force  of  nature  would 
again  express  itself  in  strong  pulses,  and  now  torment  the 
child  by  its  excess,  as  she  had  before  suffered  by  its  defect. 

Wilhelm  recollected  one  spasmodic  scene  of  that  descrip- 
tion ;  and  Natalia  referred  him  to  the  doctor,  who  would 
speak  with  him  at  large  on  the  affair,  and  explain  more  cir- 
cumstantially why  he,  the  friend  and  benefactor  of  the  child, 
had  been  at  present  sent  for.  "  One  curious  change,"  Na- 
talia added,  "you  will  find  in  her:  she  now  wears  women's 
clothes,  to  which  she  had  once  such  an  aversion." 

"  How  did  you  succeed  in  this?  "  said  Wilhelm. 

"  If  it  was,  indeed,  a  thing  to  be  desired,"  said  she,  "  we 
owe  it  all  to  chance.  Hear  how  it  happened.  Perhaps  you 
are  aware  that  I  have  constantly  about  me  a  number  of  little 
girls,  whose  opening  minds  I  endeavor,  as  they  grow  in 
strength,  to  train  to  what  is  good  and  right.  From  my 
mouth  they  learn  nothing  but  what  I  myself  regard  as  true  ; 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

yet  I  can  not  and  would  not  hinder  them  from  gathering, 
among  other  people,  many  fragments  of  the  common  preju- 
dices and  errors  which  are  current  in  the  world.  If  they 
inquire  of  me  about  them,  I  attempt,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
join  these  alien  and  intrusive  notions  to  some  just  one,  and 
thus  to  render  them,  if  not  useful,  at  least  harmless.  Some 
time  ago  my  girls  had  heard,  among  the  peasants'  children, 
many  tales  of  angels,  of  Kneeht  Rupert,  and  such  shadowy 
characters,  who,  they  understood,  appeared  at  certain  times 
in  person,  to  give  presents  to  good  children,  and  to  punish 
naughty  ones.  They  had  an  idea  that  these  strange  visitants 
were  people  in  disguise ;  in  this  I  confirmed  them :  and, 
without  entering  into  explanations,  I  determined,  on  the  first 
opportunity,  to  let  them  see  a  spectacle  of  that  soil.  It 
chanced  that  the  birthday  of  two  twin-sisters,  whose  be- 
havior had  been  always  very  good,  was  near :  I  promised, 
that,  on  this  occasion,  the  little  present  they  had  so  well 
deserved  should  be  delivered  to  them  by  an  angel.  They 
were  on  the  stretch  of  curiosity  regarding  this  phenomenon. 
I  had  chosen  Mignon  for  the  part ;  and  accordingly,  at  the 
appointed  day,  I  had  her  suitably  equipped  in  a  long,  light, 
snow-white  dress.  She  was,  of  course,  provided  with  a 
golden  girdle  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden  fillet  on  her 
hair.  I  at  first  proposed  to  omit  the  wings  ;  but  the  young 
ladies  who  were  decking  her  insisted  on  a  pair  of  large 
golden  pinions,  in  preparing  which  they  meant  to  show  their 
highest  art.  Thus  did  the  strange  apparition,  with  a  lily  in 
the  one  hand,  and  a  little  basket  in  the  other,  glide  in  among 
the  girls :  she  surprised  even  me.  '  There  comes  the  angel !  ' 
said  I.  The  children  all  shrank  back  :  at  last  they  cried, '  It 
is  Mignon ! '  yet  they  durst  not  venture  to  approach  the 
woudrous  figure. 

"  '  Here  are  your  gifts,'  said  she,  putting  down  the  basket. 
They  gathered  around  her,  they  viewed,  they  felt,  they  ques- 
tioned her. 

"  'Art  thou  an  angel? '  asked  one  of  them. 

" '  I  wish  I  were,'  said  Mignon. 

"  <•  Why  dost  thou  bear  a  lily  ? ' 

"  '  So  pure  and  so  open  should  my  heart  be :  then  were  I 
happy.' 

"  '  What  wings  are  these?    Let  us  see  them?' 

"  '  They  represent  far  finer  ones,  which  are  not  yet  un- 
folded.' 

"And  thus  significantly  did  she  answer  all  their  other 


20  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

childlike,  innocent  inquiries.'  The  little  party  having  satis- 
fied their  curiosity,  and  the  impression  of  the  show  beginning 
to  abate,  we  were  for  proceeding  to  undress  the  little  angel. 
This,  however,  she  resisted :  she  took  her  cithern  ;  she  seated 
herself  here,  on  this  high  writing-table,  and  sang  a  little 
song  with  touching  grace :  — 

"  'Such  let  me  seem,  till  such  I  be: 

Take  not  my  snow-white  dress  away  I 
Soon  from  this  dusk  of  earth  I  flee 
Up  to  the  glittering  lands  of  day. 

There  first  a  little  space  I  rest, 
Then  wake  so  glad,  to  scenes  so  kind: 

In  earthly  robes  no  longer  drest, 
This  band,  this  girdle,  left  behind. 

And  those  calm,  shining  sons  of  morn, 

They  ask  not  who  is  maid  or  boy: 
No  robes,  no  garments,  there  are  worn; 

Our  body  pure  from  sin's  alloy. 

Through  little  life  not  much  I  toiled, 
Yet  anguish  long  this  heart  has  wrung; 

Untimely  woe  my  blossom  spoiled: 
Make  me  again  forever  young.' 

"  I  immediately  determined  upon  leaving  her  the  dress," 
proceeded  Natalia,  "  and  procuring  her  some  others  of  a 
similar  kind.  These  she  now  wears  ;  and  in  them,  I  think, 
her  form  has  quite  a  different  expression." 

As  it  was  already  late,  Natalia  let  the  stranger  go :  he 
parted  from  her  not  without  anxiety.  "  Is  she  married,  or 
not?"  asked  he  within  himself.  He  had  been  afraid,  at 
every  rustling,  that  the  door  would  open,  and  her  husband 
enter.  The  serving-man,  who  showed  him  to  his  room,  went 
off  before  our  friend  had  mustered  resolution  to  inquire  re- 
garding this.  His  unrest  held  him  long  awake :  he  kept 
comparing  the  figure  of  the  Amazon  with  the  figure  of  his 
new  acquaintance.  The  two  would  not  combine  :  the  former 
he  had,  as  it  were,  himself  fashioned ;  the  latter  seemed  as  if 
it  would  almost  new-fashion  him. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  21 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEXT  morning,  while  all  was  yet  quiet,  he  went  about, 
viewing  the  house.  It  was  the  purest,  finest,  stateliest  piece 
of  architecture  he  had  ever  seen.  "True  art,"  cried  he, 
"  is  like  good  company :  it  constrains  us  in  the  most  delight- 
ful wa}'  to  recognize  the  measure  by  which,  and  up  to  which, 
our  inward  nature  has  been  shaped  by  culture."  The  im- 
pression which  the  busts  and  statues  of  his  grandfather 
made  upon  him  was  exceedingly  agreeable.  With  a  longing 
mind  he  hastened  to  the  picture  of  the  sick  king's  son,  and 
he  still  felt  it  to  be  charming  and  affecting.  The  servant 
opened  to  him  various  other  chambers :  he  found  a  library, 
a  museum,  a  cabinet  of  philosophical  instruments.  In  much 
of  this  he  could  not  help  perceiving  his  extreme  ignorance. 
Meanwhile  Felix  had  awakened,  and  come  running  after 
him.  The  thought  of  how  and  when  he  might  receive 
Theresa's  letter  gave  him  pain :  he  dreaded  seeing  Mignon, 
and  in  some  degree  Natalia.  How  unlike  his  present  state 
was  his  state  at  the  moment  when  he  sealed  the  letter  to 
Theresa,  and  with  a  glad  heart  wholly  gave  himself  to  that 
noble  being ! 

Natalia  sent  for  him  to  breakfast.  He  proceeded  to  a 
room  where  several  tidy  little  girls,  all  apparently  below  ten 
years,  were  occupied  in  furnishing  a  table  ;  while  another  of 
the  same  appearance  brought  in  various  sorts  of  beverage. 

Wilhelm  cast  his  eye  upon  a  picture  hung  above  the  sofa : 
he  could  not  but  recognize  in  it  the  portrait  of  Natalia,  little 
as  the  execution  satisfied  him.  Natalia  entered,  and  the 
likeness  seemed  entirely  to  vanish.  To  his  comfort,  it  was 
painted  with  the  cross  of  a  religious  order  on  its  breast ;  and 
he  now  saw  another  such  upon  Natalia's. 

"  I  have  just  been  looking  at  the  portrait  here,"  said  he, ; 
"  and  it  seems  surprising  that  a  painter  could  have  been  at 
once  so  true  and  so  false.  The  picture  resembles  you,  in 
general,  extremely  well ;  and  yet  it  neither  has  your  features 
nor  your  character." 

"  It  is  rather  matter  of  surprise,"  replied  Natalia,  "  that 
the  likeness  is  so  good.  It  is  not  my  picture,  but  the  picture 
of  an  aunt,  whom  I  resembled  even  in  childhood,  though  she 
was  then  advanced  in  years.  It  was  painted  when  her  age 
was  just  about  what  mine  is :  at  the  first  glance,  every  one 
imagines  it  is  meant  for  me.  You  should  have  been  ac- 


22  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

quainted  with  that  excellent  lady.  I  owe  her  much.  A  very 
weak  state  of  health,  perhaps  too  much  employment  with 
her  own  thoughts,  and,  withal,  a  moral  and  religious  scru- 
pulosity, prevented  her  from  being  to  the  world  what,  in 
other  circumstances,  she  might  have  become.  She  was  a 
light  that  shone  but  on  a  few  friends,  and  on  me  especially." 

"  Can  it  be  possible,"  said  Wilhelm,  after  thinking  for  a 
moment,  while  so  many  circumstances  seemed  to  correspond 
so  well,  ' '  can  it  be  possible  that  the  fair  and  noble  Saint, 
whose  meek  confessions  I  had  liberty  to  study,  was  your 
aunt  ? ' ' 

"  You  read  the  manuscript?  "  inquired  Natalia. 

"Yes,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  with  the  greatest  sympathy,  and 
not  without  effect  upon  my  life.  What  most  impressed  me  in 
this  paper  was,  if  I  may  term  it  so,  the  purity  of  being,  not 
only  of  the  writer  herself,  but  of  all  that  lay  round  her ;  that 
self-dependence  of  nature,  that  impossibility  of  admitting 
any  thing  into  her  soul  which  would  not  harmonize  with  its 
own  noble,  lovely  tone." 

"  You  are  more  tolerant  to  this  fine  spirit,"  said  Natalia, 
"  nay,  I  will  say  more  just,  than  many  other  men  to  whom 
the  narrative  has  been  imparted.  Every  cultivated  person 
knows  how  much  he  has  to  strive  against  a  certain  coarse- 
ness ^  both  in  himself  and  others  ;  how  much  his  culture  costs 
him ;  how  apt  he  is,  after  all,  in  certain  cases,  to  recollect 
himself  alone,  forgetting  what  he  owes  to  others.  How 
often  has  a  worthy  person  to  reproach  himself  for  having 
failed  to  act  with  proper  delicacy !  And  when  a  fair  nature 
too  delicately,  too  conscientiously,  cultivates,  nay,  if  you 
will,  overcultivates,  itself,  there  seems  to  be  no  toleration, 
no  indulgence,  for  it  in  the  world.  Yet  such  persons  are, 
without  us,  what  the  ideal  of  perfection  is  within  us,  — 
models,  not  for  being  imitated,  but  for  being  aimed  at.  We 
laugh  at  the  cleanliness  of  the  Dutch ;  but  would  our  friend 
Theresa  be  what  she  is,  if  some  such  notion  were  not  always 
present  to  her  in  her  housekeeping  ? ' ' 

"  I  see  before  me,  then,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "in  Theresa's 
friend,  the  same  Natalia  whom  her  amiable  relative  was  so 
attached  to ;  the  Natalia,  who,  from  her  youth,  was  so  affec- 
tionate, so  sympathizing,  and  helpful !  It  was  only  out  of 
such  a  line  that  such  a  being  could  proceed.  What  a  pros- 
pect opens  before  me,  while  I  at  once  survey  your  ancestors, 
and  all  the  circle  you  belong  to  !  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Natalia,  "  in  a  certain  sense,  the  story  of 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  23 

my  aunt  would  give  you  the  faithfullest  picture  of  us.  Her 
love  to  me,  indeed,  has  made  her  praise  the  little  girl  too 
much :  in  speaking  of  a  child,  we  never  speak  of  what  is 
present,  but  of  what  we  hope  for." 

"Wilhelm,  in  the  mean  time,  was  rapidly  reflecting  that 
Lothario's  parentage  and  early  youth  were  now  likewise 
known  to  him.  The  fair  countess,  too,  appeared  before  him 
in  her  childhood,  with  the  aunt's  pearls  about  her  neck :  he 
himself  had  been  near  those  pearls,  when  her  soft,  lovely 
lips  bent  down  to  meet  his  own.  These  beautiful  remem- 
brances he  sought  to  drive  away  by  other  thoughts.  He  ran 
through  the  characters  to  whom  that  manuscript  had  intro- 
duced him.  "  I  am  here,  then,"  cried  he,  "  in  your  worthy 
uncle's  house  !  It  is  no  house,  it  is  a  temple  ;  and  you  are 
the  priestess,  nay,  the  Genius,  of  it :  I  shall  recollect  for  life 
my  impression  yesternight,  when  I  entered,  and  the  old  fig- 
ures of  my  earliest  days  were  again  before  me.  I  thought 
of  the  compassionate  marble  statues  in  Miguon's  song :  but 
these  figures  had  not  to  lament  about  me  ;  they  looked  upon 
me  with  a  lofty  earnestness,  they  brought  my  first  years  into 
immediate  contact  with  the  present  moment.  That  ancient 
treasure  of  our  family,  the  joy  of  my  grandfather,  I  find 
here  placed  among  so  many  other  noble  works  of  art ;  and 
myself,  whom  nature  made  the  darling  of  the  good  old  man, 
my  unworthy  self  I  find  here  also,  Heavens !  in  what  society, 
in  what  connections !  " 

The  girls  had,  by  degrees,  gone  out  to  mind  their  little 
occupations.  Natalia,  left  alone  with  Wilhelm,  asked  some 
further  explanation  of  his  last  remark.  The  discovery,  that 
a  number  of  her  finest  paintings  and  statues  had  at  one  time 
been  the  property  of  Wilhelm's  grandfather,  did  not.  fail  to 
give  a  cheerful  stimulus  to  their  discourse.  As  by  that 
manuscript  he  had  got  acquainted  with  Natalia's  house  ;  so 
now  he  found  himself  too,  as  it  were,  in  his  inheritance.  At 
length  he  asked  for  Mignon.  His  friend  desired  him  to  have 
patience  till  the  doctor,  who  had  been  called  out  into  the 
neighborhood,  returned.  It  is  easy  to  suppose  that  the  doc- 
tor was  the  same  little,  active  man  whom  we  already  know, 
and  who  was  spoken  of  in  the  "  Confessions  of  a  Fair 
Saint." 

"  Since  I  am  now,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  in  the  middle  of  your 
family  circle,  I  presume  the  abb6  whom  that  paper  mentions 
is  the  strange,  inexplicable  person  whom,  after  the  most  sin- 
gular series  of  events,  I  met  with  in  your  brother's  house? 


24  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Perhaps  you  can  give  some  more  accurate  conception  of 
him?" 

"  Of  the  abbe1  there  might  much  be  said,"  replied  Nata- 
lia:  "  what  I  know  best  about  him,  is  the  influence  which  he 
exerted  on  our  education.  He  was,  for  a  time  at  least,  con- 
vinced that  education  ought,  in  every  case,  to  be  adapted  to 
the  inclinations :  his  present  views  of  it  I  know  not.  He 
maintained,  that  with  man  the  first  and  last  consideration  was 
activity,  and  that  we  could  not  act  on  any  thing  without  the 
proper  gifts  for  it,  without  an  instinct  impelling  us  to  it. 
'  You  admit,'  he  used  to  say,  '  that  poets  must  be  born  such ; 
you  admit  this  with  regard  to  all  professors  of  the  fine  arts  ; 
because  you  must  admit  it,  because  those  workings  of  human 
nature,  cannot  very  plausibly  be  aped.  But,  if  we  consider 
well,  we  shall  find  that  every  capability,  however  slight,  is 
born  with  us ;  that  there  is  no  vague,  general  capability  in 
men.  It  is  our  ambiguous,  desultory  education  that  makes 
men  uncertain :  it  awakens  wishes  when  it  should  be  animat- 
ing tendencies  ;  instead  of  forwarding  our  real  capacities,  it 
turns  our  efforts  towards  objects  which  are  frequently  dis- 
cordant with  the  mind  that  aims  at  them.  I  augur  better  of 
a  child,  a  youth,  who  is  wandering  astray  on  a  path  of  his 
own,  than  of  many  who  are  walking  aright  upon  paths  which 
are  not  theirs.  If  the  former,  either  by  themselves  or  by 
the  guidance  of  others,  ever  find  the  right  path,  that  is  to 
say,  the  path  which  suits  their  nature,  they  will  never  leave 
it ;  while  the  latter  are  in  danger  every  moment  of  shaking 
off  a  foreign  yoke,  and  abandoning  themselves  to  unre- 
stricted license.' ' 

"It  is  strange,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  this  same  extraor- 
dinary rfan  should  likewise  have  taken  charge  of  me ;  should, 
as  it  seems,  have,  in  his  own  fashion,  if  not  led,  at  least 
confirmed,  me  in  my  errors,  for  a  time.  How  he  will  answer 
to  the  charge  of  having  joined  with  others,  as  it  were,  to 
make  game  of  me,  I  wait  patiently  to  see." 

"  Of  this  whim,  if  it  is  one,"  said  Natalia,  "  I  have  little 
reason  to  complain :  of  all  the  family  I  answered  best  with 
it.  Indeed,  I  see  not  how  Lothario  could  have  got  a  finer 
breeding :  but  for  my  sister,  the  countess,  some  other  treat- 
ment might  have  suited  better ;  perhaps  they  should  have 
studied  to  infuse  more  earnestness  and  strength  into  her 
nature.  As  to  brother  Friedrich,  what  is  to  become  of  him 
cannot  be  conjectured :  he  will  fall  a  sacrifice,  I  fear,  to  this 
experiment  in  pedagogy." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  25 

"  You  have  another  brother,  then?  "  cried  Wilhelm. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Natalia :  "  and  a  light,  merry  youth  he  is  ; 
and,  as  they  have  not  hindered  him  from  roaming  up  and 
down  the  world,  I  know  not  what  the  wild,  dissipated  boy 
will  turn  to.  It  is  a  great  while  since  I  saw  him.  The  only 
thing  which  calms  my  fears  is,  that  the  abbe,  and  the  whole 
society  about  my  brother,  are  receiving  constant  notice  where 
he  is  and  what  he  does." 

Wilhelm  was  about  to  ask  Natalia  her  opinion  more  pre- 
cisely on  the  abbe's  paradoxes,  as  well  as  to  solicit  informa- 
tion about  that  mysterious  society  ;  but  the  physician  entering 
changed  their  conversation.  After  the  first  compliments  of 
welcome,  he  began  to  speak  of  Mignon. 

Natalia  then  took  Felix  by  the  hand  ;  saying  she  would  lead 
the  child  to  Mignoii,  and  prepare  her  for  the  entrance  of  her 
friend. 

The  doctor,  now  alone  with  Wilhelm,  thus  proceeded :  "I 
have  wondrous  things  to  tell  you,  such  as  you  are  not  antici- 
pating. Natalia  has  retired,  that  we  might  speak  with 
greater  liberty  of  certain  matters,  which,  although  I  first 
learned  them  by  her  means,  her  presence  would  prevent  us 
from  discussing  freely.  The  strange  temper  of  the  child 
seems  to  consist  almost  exclusively  of  deep  longing :  the 
desire  of  revisiting  her  native  land,  and  the  desire  for  you, 
my  friend,  are,  I  might  almost  say,  the  only  earthly  things 
about  her.  Both  these  feelings  do  but  grasp  towards  an 
immeasurable  distance,  both  objects  lie  before  her  unattain- 
able. The  neighborhood  of  Milan  seems  to  be  her  home :  in 
very  early  childhood  she  was  kidnapped  from  her  parents  by 
a  company  of  rope-dancers.  A  more  distinct  account  we 
cannot  get  from  her,  partly  because  she  was  then  too  young 
to  recollect  the  names  of  men  and  places,  but  especially  be- 
cause she  has  made  an  oath  to  tell  no  living  mortal  her  abode 
and  parentage.  For  the  strolling-party,  who  came  up  with 
her  when  she  had  lost  her  way,  and  to  whom  she  so 
accurately  described  her  dwelling,  with  such  piercing  en- 
treaties to  conduct  her  home,  but  carried  her  along  with  them 
the  faster ;  and  at  night  in  their  quarters,  when  they  thought 
the  child  was  sleeping,  joked  about  their  precious  capture, 
declaring  she  would  never  find  the  way  home  again.  On  this 
a  horrid  desperation  fell  upon  the  miserable  creature  ;  but  at 
last  the  Holy  Virgin  rose  before  her  ej'es,  and  promised  that 
she  would  assist  her.  The  child  then  swore  within  herself  a 
sacred  oath,  that  she  would  henceforth  trust  no  human  crea- 


26  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ture,  would  disclose  her  history  to  no  one,  but  live  and  die 
in  hope  of  immediate  aid  from  heaven.  Even  this,  which  I 
am  telling  you,  Natalia  did  not  learn  expressly  from  her, 
but  gathered  it  from  detached  expressions,  songs,  and  child- 
like inadvertencies,  betraying  what  they  meant  to  hide." 

Wilhelm  called  to  memory  many  a  song  and  word  of  this 
dear  child,  which  he  could  now  explain.  He  earnestly  re- 
quested the  physician  to  keep  from  him  none  of  the  confes- 
sions or  mysterious  poetry  of  this  peculiar  being. 

"Prepare  yourself,"  said  the  physician,  "  for  a  strange 
confession ;  for  a  story  with  which  you,  without  remember- 
ing it,  have  much  to  do,  and  which,  as  I  greatly  fear,  has 
been  decisive  for  the  death  and  life  of  this  good  creature." 

"Let  me  hear,"  said  Wilhelm:  "my  impatience  is  un- 
bounded*" 

"  Do  you  recollect  a  secret  nightly  visit  from  a  female," 
said  the  doctor,  "  after  your  appearance  in  the  character  of 
Hamlet?" 

"  Yes,  I  recollect  it  well,"  cried  Wilhelm,  blushing  ;•  "  but 
I  did  not  look  to  be  reminded  of  it  at  the  present  moment." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was?  " 

"  I  do  not !  You  frighten  rne !  In  the  name  of  Heaven, 
not  Mignon,  surely?  Who  was  it?  Tell  me,  pray." 

"  I  know  it  not  myself." 

"  NotMignon,  then?" 

"  No,  certainly  not  Mignon  ;  but  Mignon  was  intending  at 
the  time  to  glide  in  to  you,  and  saw  with  horror,  from  a 
corner  where  she  lay  concealed,  a  rival  get  before  her." 

"  A  rival !  "  cried  our  friend.  "  Speak  on  :  you  more  and 
more  confound  me." 

"  Be  thankful  j"  said  the  doctor,  "that  you  can  arrive  at 
the  result  so  soon  through  means  of  me.  Natalia  and  I,  with 
but  a  distant  interest  in  the  matter,  had  distress  enough  to 
undergo  before  we  could  thus  far  discover  the  perplexed  condi- 
tion of  the  poor,  dear  creature,  whom  we  wished  to  help.  By 
some  wanton  speeches  of  Philina  and  the  other  girls,  by  a 
certain  song  which  she  had  heard  Philina  sing,  the  child's 
attention  had  been  roused  :  she  longed  to  pass  a  night  beside 
the  man  she  loved,  without  conceiving  any  thing  to  be  implied 
in  this  beyond  a  happy  and  confiding  rest.  A  love  for  you, 
my  friend,  was  already  keen  and  powerful  in  her  little  heart  • 
in  your  arms,  the  child  had  found  repose  from  many  a 
sorrow ;  she  now  desired  this  happiness  in  all  its  fulness. 
If  at  one  time  she  purposed  requesting  it  as  a  favor,  at 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  27 

another  a  secret  horror  would  hold  her  back.  At  last  that 
merry  night  and  the  excitement  of  abundant  wine  inspired 
her  with  the  courage  to  attempt  the  adventure,  and  glide  in 
to  you  on  that  occasion.  Accordingly  she  ran  before,  to 
hide  herself  in  your  apartment,  which  was  standing  open ; 
but  just  when  she  had  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  having 
heard  a  rustling,  she  concealed  herself,  and  saw  a  female 
in  a  white  dress  slip  into  your  chamber.  You  yourself 
arrived  soon  after,  and  she  heard  you  push  the  large 
bolt. 

"  Mignon's  agony  was  now  unutterable :  all  the  violent 
feelings  of  a  passionate  jealousy  mingled  themselves  with 
the  unacknowledged  longing  of  obscure  desire,  and  seized 
her  half -developed  nature  with  tremendous  force.  Her 
heart,  which  hitherto  had  beaten  violently  with  eagerness 
and  expectation,  now  at  once  began  to  falter  and  stop ;  it 
pressed  her  bosom  like  a  heap  of  lead :  she  could  not  draw 
her  breath,  she  knew  not  what  to  do ;  she  heard  the  sound  of 
the  old  man's  harp,  hastened  to  the  garret  where  he  was, 
and  passed  the  night  at  his  feet  in  horrible  convulsions." 

The  physician  paused  a  moment :  then,  as  Wilhelm  still 
kept  silence,  he  proceeded,  "  Natalia  told  me,  nothing  in 
her  life  had  so  alarmed  and  touched  her  as  the  state  of 
Mignon  while 'relating  this;  indeed,  our  noble  friend  accused 
herself  of  cruelty  in  having,  by  her  questions  and  manage- 
ment, drawn  this  confession  from  her,  and  renewed  by  recol- 
lection the  violent  sorrows  of  the  poor  little  girl. 

"  '  The  dear  creature,'  said  Natalia,  '  had  scarcely  come 
so  far  with  her  recital,  or,  rather,  with  her  answers  to  my 
questions,  when  she  sank  all  at  once  before  me  on  the  ground, 
and,  with  her  hand  on  her  bosom,  piteously  moaned  that  the 
pain  of  that  excruciating  night  was  come  back.  She  twisted 
herself  like  a  worm  upon  the  floor ;  and  I  had  to  summon  all 
my  composure,  that  I  might  remember  and  apply  such  means 
of  remedy  for  mind  and  body  as  were  known  to  me.'  ' 

"  It  is  a  painful  predicament  you  put  me  in,"  cried  Wil- 
helm, "  by  impressing  me  so  vividly  with  the  feeling  of  my 
manifold  injustice  towards  this  unhappy  and  beloved  being, 
at  the  very  moment  when  I  am  again  to  meet  her.  If  she  is 
to  see  me,  why  do  }"ou  deprive  me  .of  the  courage  to  appear 
with  freedom?  .And  shall  I  confess  it  to  you?  Since  her 
mind  is  so  affected,  I  perceive  not  how  my  presence  can  be 
advantageous  to  her.  If  you,  as  a  physician,  are  persuaded 
that  this  double  longing  has  so  undermined  her  being  as  to 


28  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

threaten  death,  why  should  I  renew  her  sorrows  by  my  pres- 
ence, and  perhaps  accelerate  her  end?  " 

"  My  friend,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  where  we  cannot  cure, 
it  is  our  duty  to  alleviate  ;  and  how  much  the  presence  of  a 
loved  object  tends  to  take  from  the  imagination  its  destruc- 
tive power,  how  it  changes  an  impetuous  longing  to  a  peace- 
ful looking,  I  could  prove  by  the  most  convincing  instances. 
Every  thing  in  measure  and  with  purpose !  For,  in  other 
cases,  this  same  presence  may  rekindle  an  affection  nigh 
extinguished.  But  do  you  go  and  see  the  child  ;  behave  to 
her  with  kindness,  and  let  us  wait  the  consequence." 

Natalia,  at  this  moment  coming  back,  bade  Wilhelm  follow 
her  to  Mignon.  ' '  She  appears  to  feel  quite  happy  with  the 
boy,"  observed  Natalia,  "  and  I  hope  she  will  receive  our 
friend  with  mildness."  "Wilhelm  followed,  not  without  re- 
luctance :  he  was  deeply  moved  by  what  he  had  been  hear- 
ing ;  he  feared  a  stormy  scene  of  passion.  It  was  altogether 
the  reverse  that  happened  on  his  entrance. 

Mignon,  dressed  in  long,  white,  women's  clothes,  with  her 
brown,  copious  hair  partly  knotted,  partly  clustering  out  in 
locks,  was  sitting  with  the  boy  Felix  on  her  lap,  and  press- 
ing him  against  her  heart.  She  looked  like  a  departed  spirit, 
he  like  life  itself :  it  seemed  as  if  Heaven  and  Earth  were 
clasping  one  another.  She  held  out  her  hand  to  AVilhelm 
with  a  smile,  and  said,  "  I  thank  thee  for  bringing  back  the 
child  to  me  :  they  had  taken  him  away,  I  know  not  how ;  and 
since  then  I  could  not  live.  So  long  as  my  heart  needs  any 
thing  on  earth,  thy  Felix  shall  fill  up  the  void." 

The  quietness  which  Mignon  had  displayed  on  meeting 
with  her  friend  produced  no  little  satisfaction  in  the  party. 
The  doctor  signified  that  Wilhelm  should  go  frequently  and 
see  her;  that  in  body  as  in  mind,  she  should  be  kept  as 
equable  as  possible.  He  himself  departed,  promising  to  re- 
turn soon. 

Wilhelm  could  now  observe  Natalia  in  her  own  circle  :  one 
would  have  desired  nothing  better  than  to  live  beside  her. 
Her  presence  had  the  purest  influence  on  the  girls,  and  young 
ladies  of  various  ages,  who  resided  with  her  in  the  house,  or 
came  to  pay  her  visits  from  the  neighborhood. 

"The  progress  of  your- life,"  said  Wilhelm  once  to  her, 
"  must  always  have  been  very  even  :  your  aunt's  delineation 
of  you  in  your  childhood  seems,  if  I  mistake  not,  still  to  fit. 
It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  never  were  entangled  in  your  path. 
You  have  never  been  compelled  to  retrograde." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  29 

"This  I  owe  to  my  uncle  and  the  abb6,"  said  Natalia, 
"who  so  well  discriminated  my  prevailing  turn  of  mind. 
From  my  youth  upwards,  I  can  recollect  no  livelier  feeling 
than  that  I  was  constantly  observing  people's  wants,  and 
had  an  irresistible  desire  to  make  them  up.  The  child  that 
had  not  learned  to  stand  on  its  feet,  the  old  man  that  could 
no  longer  stand  on  his ;  the  longing  of  a  rich  family  for  chil- 
dren, the  inability  of  a  poor  one  to  maintain  their  children  ; 
each  silent  wish  for  some  particular  species  of  employment ; 
the  impulse  towards  any  talent ;  the  natural  gifts  for  many  lit- 
tle necessary  arts  of  life, — were  sure  to  strike  me  :  my  eyes 
seemed  formed  by  nature  for  detecting  them.  I  saw  such 
things  where  no  one  had  directed  my  attention :  I  seemed 
born  for  seeing  them  alone.  The  charms  of  inanimate 
nature,  to  which  so  many  persons  are  exceedingly  susceptible, 
had  no  effect  on  me :  the  charms  of  art,  if  possible,  had 
less.  My  most  delightful  occupation  was  and  is,  when  a 
deficiency,  a  want,  appeared  before  me  anywhere,  to  set 
about  devising  a  supply,  a  remedy,  a  help  for  it. 

"If  I  saw  a  poor  creature  in  rags,  the  superfluous  clothes 
I  had  noticed  hanging  in  the  wardrobes  of  my  friends  im- 
mediately occurred  to  me ;  if  I  saw  children  wasting  for 
want  of  care,  I  was  sure  to  recollect  some  lady  I  had  found 
oppressed  with  tedium  amid  riches  and  conveniences ;  if  I 
saw  too  many  persons  crammed  into  a  narrow  space,  I 
thought  they  should  be  lodged  in  the  spacious  chambers  of 
palaces  and  vacant  houses.  This  mode  of  viewing  things 
was  altogether  natural,  without  the  least  reflection :  so  that 
in  my  childhood  I  often  made  the  strangest  work  of  it,  and 
more  than  once  embarrassed  people  by  my  singular  proposals. 
Another  of  my  peculiarities  was  this  :  I  did  not  learn  till  late, 
and  after  many  efforts,  to  consider  money  as  a  means  of 
satisfying  wants ;  my  benefits  were  all  distributed  in  kind : 
and  my  simplicity,  I  know,  was  frequently  the  cause  of 
laughter.  None  but  the  abb6  seemed  to  understand  me  :  he 
met  me  everywhere ;  he  made  me  acquainted  with  myself, 
with  these  wishes,  these  tendencies,  and  taught  me  how  to 
satisfy  them  suitably." 

"Do  you,  then,"  said  "Wilhelm,  "  in  the  education  of  your 
little  female  world,  employ  the  method  of  these  extraordinary 
men?  Do  you,  too,  leave  every  mind  to  form  itself?  Do 
you,  too,  leave  your  girls  to  search  and  wander,  to  pursue 
delusions,  happily  to  reach  the  goal,  or  miserably  lose  them- 
selves in  error  ? ' ' 


30  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"No,"  replied  Natalia:  "such  treatment  as  that  would 
altogether  contradict  my  notions.  To  my  mind,  he  who  does 
not  help  us  at  the  needful  moment,  never  helps;  he  who 
does  not  counsel  at  the  needful  moment,  never  counsels. 
I  also  reckon  it  essential,  that  we  lay  down  and  continually 
impress  on  children  certain  laws,  to  operate  as  a  kind  of  hold 
in  life.  Nay,  I  could  almost  venture  to  assert,  that  it  is 
better  to  be  wrong  by  rule,  than  to  be  wrong  with  nothing  but 
the  fitful  caprices  of  our  disposition  to  impel  us  hither  and 
thither ;  and,  in  my  way  of  viewing  men,  there  always  seems 
to  be  a  void  in  their  nature,  which  cannot  be  filled  up,  except 
by  some  decisive  and  distinctly  settled  law." 

"Your  manner  of  proceeding,  then,"  said  Wilhelm,  "is 
entirely  different  from  the  manner  of  our  friends  ? ' ' 

"Yes,"  replied  Natalia;  "and  you  may  see  the  unexam- 
pled tolerance  of  these  men,  from  the  fact,  that  they  nowise 
disturb  me  in  my  practice,  but  leave  me  on  my  own  path, 
simply  because  it  is  my  own,  and  even  assist  me  in  every 
thing  that  I  require  of  them." 

A  more  minute  description  of  Natalia's  plans  in  mana- 
ging her  children  we  reserve  for  some  other  opportunity. 

Mignon  often  asked  to  be  of  their  society ;  and  this  they 
granted  her  with  greater  readiness,  as  she  appeared  to  be 
again  accustoming  herself  to  Wilhelm,  to  be  opening  her 
heart  to  him,  and  in  general  to  have  become  more  cheerful, 
and  contented  with  existence.  In  walking,  being  easily 
fatigued,  she  liked  to  hang  upon  his  arm.  "  Mignon,"  she 
would  say,  "  now  climbs  and  bounds  no  more  ;  yet  she  still 
longs  to  mount  the  summits  of  the  hills,  to  skip  from  house 
to  house,  from  tree  to  tree.  How  enviable  are  the  birds ! 
and  then  so  prettily  and  socially  they  build  then*  nests 
too!" 

Erelong  it  became  habitual  for  her  to  invite  her  friend, 
more  than  once  every  day,  into  the  garden.  When  Wilhelm 
was  engaged  or  absent,  Felix  had  to  take  his  place ;  and,  if 
poor  Mignon  seemed  at  times  quite  loosened  from  the  earth, 
there  were  other  moments  when  she  would  again  hold  fast  to 
father  and  son,  and  seem  to  dread  a  separation  from  them 
more  than  any  thing  beside. 

Natalia  wore  a  thoughtful  look.  "  We  meant,"  said  she, 
"  to  open  her  tender  little  heart,  by  sending  for  you  hither. 
I  know  not  whether  we  did  prudently."  She  stopped,  and 
seemed  expecting  Wilhelm  to  say  something.  To  him  also 
it  occurred,  that,  by  his  marriage  with  Theresa,  Mignon,  in 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  31 

the  present  circumstances,  would  be  fearfully  offended  :  but, 
in  his  uncertainty,  he  did  not  venture  mentioning  his  project ; 
he  had  no  suspicion  that  Natalia  knew  of  it. 

As  little  could  he  talk  with  freedom,  when  his  noble  friend 
began  to  speak  about  her  sister,  to  praise  her  good  qualities, 
and  to  lament  her  hapless  situation.  He  felt  exceedingly 
embarrassed  when  Natalia  told  him  he  would  shortly  see  the 
countess  here.  "Her  husband,"  said  she,  "has  now  no 
object  but  replacing  Zinzendorf  in  the  Community,  and,  by 
insight  and  activity,  supporting  and  extending  that  establish- 
ment. He  is  coming  with  his  wife,  to  take  a  sort  of  leave  : 
he  then  purposes  visiting  the  various  spots  where  the  Com- 
munity have  settled.  They  appear  to  treat  him  as  he  wishes  : 
and  I  should  not  wonder  if,  in  order  to  be  altogether  like  his 
predecessor,  he  ventured,  with  my  sister,  on  a  voj-age  to 
America ;  for,  being  already  well-nigh  convinced  that  a  little 
more  would  make  a  saint  of  him,  the  wish  to  superadd  the  dig- 
nity of  martyrdom  has  probably  enough  often  flitted  through 
his  mind." 


CHAPTER  TV. 

THEY  had  often  spoken  of  Theresa,  often  mentioned  her 
in  passing ;  and  Wilhelm  almost  every  time  was  minded  to 
confess  that  he  had  offered  her  his  heart  and  hand.  A  cer- 
tain feeling,  which  he  was  not  able  to  explain,  restrained 
him  :  he  paused  and  wavered,  till  at  length  Natalia,  with  the 
heavenly,  modest,  cheerful  smile  she  often  wore,  said  to  him, 
"  It  seems,  then,  I  at  last  must  break  silence,  and  force  my- 
self into  your  confidence !  Why,  my  friend,  do  }'ou  keep 
secret  from  me  an  affair  of  such  importance  to  yourself,  and 
so  closely  touching  my  concerns?  You  have  made  my  friend 
the  offer  of  your  hand :  I  do  not  mix  uncalled  in  the  transac- 
tion ;  here  are  my  credentials ;  here  is  the  letter  which  she 
writes  to  you,  which  she  sends  you  through  my  hands." 

"  A  letter  from  Theresa !  "  cried  he. 

"Yes,  mein  Herr!  Your  destiny  is  settled:  you  are 
happy.  Let  me  congratulate  my  friend  and  you  on  your 
good  fortune." 

Wilhelm  spoke  not,  but  gazed  out  before  him.  Natalia 
looked  at  him :  she  saw  that  he  was  pale.  "  Your  joy  is 


32  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

strong,"  continued  she  :  "  it  takes  the  form  of  terror,  it  de- 
prives you  of  the  power  to  speak.  My  participation  is  not 
the  less  cordial  that  I  show  it  you  in  words.  I  hope  you  will 
be  grateful,  for  I  may  say  my  influence  on  the  decision  of 
your  bride  has  not  been  small :  she  asked  me  for  advice ; 
and  as  it  happened,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  that  you  were 
here  just  then,  I  was  enabled  to  destroy  the  few  scruples  she 
still  entertained.  Our  messages  went  swiftly  to  and  fro : 
here  is  her  determination ;  here  is  the  conclusion  of  the 
treaty  !  And  now  you  shall  read  her  other  letters  :  you  shall 
have  a  free,  clear  look  into  the  fair  heart  of  your  Theresa." 

Wilhelm  opened  the  letter,  which  she  handed  him  unsealed. 
It  contained  these  friendly  words :  — 

"  I  am  yours,  as  I  am  and  as  you  know  me.  I  call  you 
mine,  as  you  are  and  as  I  know  you.  What  in  ourselves, 
what  in  our  connection,  wedlock  changes,  we  shall  study  to 
adjust  by  reason,  cheerfulness,  and  mutual  good  will.  As  it 
is  no  passion,  but  trust  and  inclination,  for  each  other  that  is 
leading  us  together,  we  run  less  risk  than  thousands  of  others. 
You  will  forgive  me,  will  you  not,  if  I  still  think  often  and 
kindly  of  my  former  friend :  in  return,  I  will  press  your 
Felix  to  my  heart,  as  if  I  were  his  mother.  If  j'ou  choose  to 
share  my  little  mansion  straightway,  we  are  lord  and  master 
there  ;  and  in  the  mean  while  the  purchase  of  your  land  might 
be  concluded.  I  could  wish  that  no  new  arrangements  were 
made  in  it  without  me.  I  could  wish  at  once  to  prove  that 
I  deserve  the  confidence  you  repose  in  me.  Adieu,  dear, 
dear  friend !  Beloved  bridegroom,  honored  husband ! 
Theresa  clasps  you  to  her  breast  with  hope  and  joy.  My 
friend  will  tell  you  more,  will  tell  you  all." 

Wilhelm,  to  whose  mind  this  sheet  recalled  the  image  of 
Theresa  with  the  liveliest  distinctness,  had  now  recovered 
his  composure.  While  reading,  thoughts  had  rapidly  alter- 
nated within  his  soul.  With  terror  he  discovered  in  his  heart 
the  most  vivid  traces  of  an  inclination  to  Natalia :  he  blamed 
himself,  declaring  every  thought  of  that  description  to  be 
madness ;  he  represented  to  himself  Theresa  in  her  whole 
perfection  :  he  again  perused  the  letter,  he  grew  cheerful,  or, 
rather,  he  so  far  regained  his  self-possession  that  he  could 
appear  cheerful.  Natalia  handed  him  the  letters  which  had 
passed  between  Theresa  and  herself :  out  of  Theresa's  we 
propose  extracting  one  or  two  passages. 

After  delineating  her  bridegroom  in  her  own  peculiar  way, 
Theresa  thus  proceeded :  — 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  33 

"  Such  is  the  notion  I  have  formed  of  the  man  who  now 
offers  me  his  hand.  What  he  thinks  of  himself,  thou  shalt 
see  by  and  by  in  the  papers  he  has  sent  me,  where  he  alto- 
gether candidly  draws  his  own  portrait :  I  feel  persuaded 
that  I  shall  be  happy  with  him." 

u  As  for  rank,  thou  knowest  what  my  ideas  have  always 
been  on  this  point.  Some  people  look  on  disagreement  of 
external  circumstances  as  a  fearful  thing,  and  cannot  remedy 
it.  I  wish  not  to  persuade  any  one,  I  wish  to  act  according 
to  my  own  persuasion.  I  mean  not  to  set  others  an  example, 
nor  do  I  act  without  example.  It  is  interior  disagreements 
only  that  frighten  me :  a  frame  that  does  not  fit  what  it  Is 
meant  to  hold,  much  pomp  and  little  real  enjoyment,  wealth 
and  avarice,  nobility  and  coarseness,  youth  and  pedantry, 
poverty  and  ceremonies,  these  are  the  things  which  would 
annihilate  me,  however  it  may  please  the  world  to  stamp  and 
rate  them." 

"  If  I  hope  that  we  shall  suit  each  other,  the  hope  is  chiefly 
founded  upon  this,  that  he  resembles  thee,  my  dear  Natalia, 
thee  whom  I  so  highly  prize  and  reverence.  Yes  :  he  has  thy 
noble  searching  and  striving  for  the  better,  whereby  we  of 
ourselves  produce  the  good  which  we  suppose  we  find.  How 
often  have  I  blamed  thee,  not  in  silence,  for  treating  this  or 
that  person,  for  acting  in  this  or  that  case,  otherwise  than 
I  should  have  done ;  and  yet,  in  general,  the  issue  showed 
that  thou  wert  right.  '  When  we  take  people,'  thou  wouldst 
say,  '  merely  as  they  are,  we  make  them  worse :  when  we 
treat  them  as  if  they  were  what  they  should  be,  we  improve 
them  as  far  as  they  can  be  improved.'  To  see  or  to  act  thus, 
J  know  full  well  is  not  for  me.  Skill,  order,  discipline,  di- 
rection, that  is  my  affair.  I  always  recollect  what  Jarno  said  : 
4  Theresa  trains  her  pupils,  Natalia  forms  them.'  Nay,  once 
he  went  so  far  as  to  assert  that  of  the  three  fair  qualities, 
faith,  love,  and  hope,  I  was  entirely  destitute.  '  Instead  of 
faith,'  said  he,  '  she  has  penetration  ;  instead  of  love,  she  has 
steadfastness ;  instead  of  hope,  she  has  trust. '  Indeed,  I  will 
confess,  that,  till  I  knew  thee,  I  knew  nothing  higher  in  the 
world  than  clearness  and  prudence  :  it  was  thy  presence  only 
that  persuaded,  animated,  conquered  me ;  to  thy  fair,  lofty 
soul  I  willingly  give  place.  My  friend,  too,  I  honor  on  the 
same  principle :  the  description  of  his  life  is  a  perpetual 
seeking  without  finding,  —  not  empty  seeking,  but  wondrous, 


34  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

generous  seeking ;  he  fancies  others  may  give  him  what  can 
proceed  from  himself  alone.  So,  love,  the  clearness  of  my 
vision  has  not  injured  me  on  this  occasion  more  than  others : 
I  know  my  husband  better  than  he  knows  himself,  and  I  value 
him  the  more.  I  see  him,  jret  I  see  not  over  him :  all  my 
skill  will  not  enable  me  to  judge  of  what  he  can  accomplish. 
When  I  think  of  him,  his  image  always  blends  itself  with 
thine :  I  know  not  how  I  have  deserved  to  belong  to  two 
such  persons.  But  I  will  deserve  it,  by  endeavoring  to  do 
my  duty  by  fulfilling  what  is  looked  for  from  me." 

"If  I  recollect  of  Lothario?  Vividly  and  daily.  In  the 
company  which  in  thought  surrounds  me,  I  cannot  want  him 
for  a  moment.  Oh,  what  a  pity  for  this  noble  character,  re- 
lated by  an  error  of  his  youth  to  me,  that  nature  has  related 
him  to  thee  !  A  being  such  as  thou,  in  truth,  were  worthier 
of  him  than  I.  To  thee  I  could,  I  would,  surrender  him. 
Let  us  be  to  him  all  we  can,  till  he  find  a  proper  wife  ;  and 
then,  too,  let  us  be,  let  us  abide,  together." 

"  But  what  shall  we  say  to  our  friends?  "  began  Natalia. 
"  Your  brother  does  not  know  of  it?  "  —  "  Not  a  hint ;  your 
people  know  as  little  ;  we  women  have,  on  this  occasion,  man- 
aged the  affair  ourselves.  Lydia  had  put  some  whims  into 
Theresa's  head  concerning  Jarno  and  the  abb6.  There  are 
certain  plans  and  secret  combinations,  with  the  general 
scheme  of  which  I  am  acquainted,  and  into  which  I  never 
thought  of  penetrating  farther.  With  regard  to  these, 
Theresa  has,  through  Lydia,  taken  up  some  shadow  of  sus- 
picion :  so  in  this  decisive  step  she  would  not  suffer  any  one 
but  me  to  influence  her.  With  my  brother  it  had  been  already 
settled  that  they  should  merely  announce  their  marriages  to 
one  another,  not  giving  or  asking  counsel  on  the  subject." 

Natalia  wrote  a  letter  to  her  brother :  she  invited  Wilhelm 
to  subjoin  a  word  or  two,  Theresa  having  so  desired  it.  They 
were  just  about  to  seal,  when  Jarno  unexpectedly  sent  up  his 
name.  His  reception  was,  of  course,  as  kind  as  possible :  he 
wore  a  sportful,  merry  air ;  he  could  not  long  forbear  to  tell 
his  errand.  "  I  am  come,"  said  he,  "  to  give  you  very  curi- 
ous and  very  pleasing  tidings :  they  concern  Theresa.  You 
have  often  blamed  us,  fair  Natalia,  for  troubling  our  heads 
about  so  many  things ;  but  now  you  see  how  good  it  is  to 
have  one's  spies  in  every  place.  Guess,  and  let  us  see  your 
skill  for  once !  ' ' 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  35 

The  self-complacency  with  which  he  spoke  these  words,  the 
roguish  mien  with  which  he  looked  at  Wilhelm  and  Natalia, 
persuaded  both  of  them  that  he  had  found  their  secret. 
Natalia  answered,  smiling,  "We  are  far  more  skilful  than 
you  think  :  before  we  even  heard  your  riddle,  we  had  put  the 
answer  to  it  down  in  black  and  white." 

With  these  words  she  handed  him  the  letter  to  Lothario, 
satisfied  at  having  met,  in  this  way,  the  little  triumph  and 
surprise  he  had  meant  for  them.  Jarno  took  the  sheet  with 
some  astonishment,  ran  it  quickly  over,  started,  let  it  drop 
from  his  hands,  and  stared  at  both  his  friends  with  an  expres- 
sion of  amazement,  nay,  of  fright,  which,  on  his  countenance, 
was  rare.  He  spoke  no  word. 

Wilhelm  and  Natalia  were  not  a  little  struck :  Jarno 
stepped  up  and  down  the  room.  "  What  shall  I  say?  "  cried 
he,  "•  or  shall  I  say  it  all?  But  it  must  come  out :  the  per- 
plexity is  not  to  be  avoided.  So  secret  for  secret,  surprise 
against  surprise  !  Theresa  is  not  the  daughter  of  her  reputed 
mother !  The  hinderance  is  removed :  I  came  to  ask  you  to 
prepare  her  for  a  marriage  with  Lothario." 

Jarno  saw  the  shock  which  he  had  given  his  friends :  they 
cast  their  eyes  upon  the  ground.  "•  The  present  case,"  said 
he,  "is  one  of  those  which  are  worse  to  bear  in  company. 
What  each  has  to  consider  in  it,  he  considers  best  in  solitude  : 
I,  at  least,  require  an  hour  of  leave."  He  hastened  to  the 
garden :  Wilhelm  followed  him  mechanically,  yet  without 
approaching  near. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  they  were  again  assembled.  Wil- 
helm opened  the  conversation.  "Formerly,"  said  he, 
"  while  I  was  living  without  plan  or  object,  in  a  state  of 
carelessness,  or,  I  may  say,  of  levity,  friendship,  love,  affec- 
tion, trust,  came  towards  me  with  open  arms,  they  pressed 
themselves  upon  me ;  but  now,  when  I  am  serious,  destiny 
appears  to  take  another  course  with  me.  This  resolution, 
of  soliciting  Theresa's  hand,  is  probably  the  first  that  has 
proceeded  altogether  from  myself.  I  laid  my  plan  con- 
siderately ;  my  reason  fully  joined  in  it :  by  the  consent  of 
that  noble  maiden,  all  my  hopes  were  crowned.  But  now 
the  strangest  fate  puts  back  my  outstretched  hand :  Theresa 
reaches  hers  to  me,  but  from  afar,  as  in  a  dream  ;  I  cannot 
grasp  it,  and  the  lovely  image  leaves  me  forever.  So  fare 
thee  well,  thou  lovely  image !  and  all  ye  images  of  richest 
happiness  that  gathered  round  it !  " 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  looking  out  before  him  :  Jaruo 


36  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

was  about  to  speak.  "Let  me  have  another  word,"  cried 
Wilhelm,  "for  the  lot  is  drawing  which  is  to  decide  the 
destiny  of  all  my  life.  At  this  moment,  I  am  aided  and 
confirmed  by  the  impression  which  Lothario's  presence  made 
upon  me  at  the  first  glance,  and  which  has  ever  since  con- 
tinued with  me.  That  man  well  merits  every  sort  of  friend- 
ship and  affection  ;  and,  without  sacrifices,  friendship  cannot 
be  imagined.  For  his  sake,  it  was  easy  for  me  to  delude  a 
hapless  girl ;  for  his  sake,  it  shall  be  possible  for  me  to  give 
away  the  worthiest  bride.  Return,  relate  the  strange  occur- 
rence to  him,  and  tell  him  what  I  am  prepared  for." 

"  In  emergencies  like  this,"  said  Jarno,  "  I  hold  that 
every  thing  is  done,  if  one  do  nothing  rashly.  Let  us  take 
no  step  till  Lothario  has  agreed  to  it.  I  will  go  to  him :  wait 
patientbj  for  my  return  or  for  his  letter." 

He  rode  away,  and  left  his  friends  in  great  disquiet.  They 
had  time  to  reconsider  these  events,  to  think  of  them  ma- 
turely. It  now  first  occurred  to  them,  that  they  had  taken 
Jarno's  statement  simply  by  itself,  and  without  inquiring  into 
any  of  the  circumstances.  Wilhelm  was  not  altogether  free 
from  doubts ;  but  next  day  their  astonishment,  nay,  their 
bewilderment,  arose  still  higher,  when  a  messenger,  arriving 
from  Theresa,  brought  the  following  letter  to  Natalia. 

"  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  after  all  the  letters  I  have  sent, 
I  am  obliged  to  send  another,  begging  that  thou  wouldst 
despatch  my  bridegroom  to  me  instantly.  He  shall  be  my 
husband,  what  plans  soever  they  may  lay  to  rob  me  of  him. 
Give  him  the  enclosed  letter,  only  not  before  witnesses, 
whoever  they  may  be  !  " 

The  enclosed  letter  was  as  follows :  "  What  opinion  will 
you  form  of  your  Theresa,  when  you  see  her  all  at  once  in- 
sisting passionately  on  a  union  which  calm  reason  alone  ap- 
peared to  have  appointed?  Let  nothing  hinder  you  from 
setting  out  the  moment  you  have  read  this  letter.  Come,  my 
dear,  dear  friend ;  now  three  times  dearer,  since  they  are 
attempting  to  deprive  me  of  you." 

"  What  is  to  be  done?  "  cried  Wilhelm,  after  he  had  read 
the  letter. 

"  In  no  case  that  I  remesiber,"  said  Natalia,  after  some 
reflection,  "  have  my  heart  and  judgment  been  so  dumb  as 
in  this :  what  to  do  or  to  advise  I  know  not." 

"  Can  it  be,"  cried  Wilhelm  vehemently,  "  that  Lothario 
does  not  know  of  it?  or,  if  he  does,  that  he  is  but  like  us, 
the  sport  of  hidden  plans?  Has  Jaruo,  when  he  saw  our 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  37 

letter,  devised  that  fable  on  the  spot  ?  Would  he  have  told 
us  something  different,  if  we  had  not  been  so  precipitate  ? 
What  can  they  mean?  What  intentions  can  they  have? 
What  plan  can  Theresa  mean?  Yes,  it  must  be  owned, 
Lothario  is  begirt  with  secret  influences  and  combinations : 
I  myself  have  found  that  they  are  active,  that  they  take  a 
certain  charge  of  the  proceedings,  of  the  destiny,  of  several 
people,  and  contrive  to  guide  them.  The  ulterior  objects  of 
these  mysteries  I  know  not ;  but  their  nearest  purpose,  that 
of  snatching  my  Theresa  from  me,  I  perceive  but  too  dis- 
tinctly. On  the  one  hand,  this  prospect  of  Lothario's  hap- 
piness, which  they  exhibit  to  me,  may  be  but  a  hollow  show  : 
on  the  other  hand,  I  see  my  dear,  my  honored  bride  inviting 
me  to  her  affection.  What  shall  I  do  ?  What  shall  I  for- 
bear?" 

"•A  little  patience!"  said  Natalia:  "a  little  time  for 
thought.  In  these  singular  perplexities  I  know  but  this,  that 
what  can  never  be  recalled  should  not  be  done  in  haste.  To 
a  fable,  to  an  artful  plan,  we  have  steadfastness  and  prudence 
to  oppose :  whether  Jaruo  has  been  speaking  true  or  false 
must  soon  appear.  If  my  brother  has  actually  hopes  of  a 
union  with  Theresa,  it  were  hard  to  cut  him  off  forever  from 
that  prospect  at  the  moment  when  it  seems  so  kindly  invit- 
ing him.  Let  us  wait  at  least  till  we  discover  whether  he 
himself  knows  any  thing  of  it,  whether  he  believes  and 
hopes." 

These  prudent  counsels  were  confirmed  by  a  letter  from 
Lothario.  "  I  do  not  send  Jarno,"  he  wrote  :  "  a  line  from 
my  hand  is  more  to  thee  than  the  minutest  narrative  in  the 
mouth  of  a  messenger.  I  am  certain  Theresa  is  not  the 
daughter  of  her  reputed  mother  ;  and  I  cannot  renounce  hope 
of  being  hers,  till  she,  too,  is  persuaded,  and  can  then  decide 
between  my  friend  and  me,  with  calm  consideration.  Let 
him  not  leave  thee,  I  entreat  it !  The  happiness,  the  life,  of 
a  brother  is  at  stake.  I  promise  thee,  this  uncertainty  shall 
not  be  long." 

"  You  see  how  the  matter  stands,"  said  she  to  Wilhelm, 
with  a  friendly  air:  "  give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  you 
will  not  leave  the  house  ! ' ' 

"  I  give  it!  "  cried  he,  stretching  out  his  hand:  "  I  will 
not  leave  this  house  against  your  will.  I  thank  Heaven,  and 
my  better  Genius,  that  on  this  occasion  I  am  led,  and  led 
by  you." 

Natalia  wrote  Theresa  an  account  of  every  thing,  declar- 


38  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ing  that  she  would  not  let  her  friend  away.  She  sent  Lo- 
thario's letter  also. 

Theresa  answered,  "  I  wondered  not  a  little  that  Lothario 
is  himself  convinced :  to  his  sister  he  would  not  feign  to  this 
extent.  I  am  vexed,  greatly  vexed.  It  is  better  that  I  say 
rid  more.  But  I  will  come  to  thee,  so  soon  as  I  have  got 
poor  Lydia  settled :  they  are  treating  her  cruelly.  I  fear  we 
are  all  betrayed,  and  shall  be  so  betrayed  that  we  shall 
never  reach  the  truth.  If  my  friend  were  of  my  opinion, 
he  would  give  thee  the  slip  after  all,  and  throw  himself  into 
the  arms  of  his  Theresa,  whom  none  shall  take  away  from 
him.  But  I,  as  I  dread,  shall  lose  him,  and  not  regain 
Lothario.  From  the  latter  they  are  taking  L}'dia  by  show- 
ing him,  afar  off,  the  prospect  of  obtaining  me.  I  will  say 
no  more :  the  entanglement  will  grow  still  deeper.  Whether, 
in  the  mean  time,  these  delightful  positions  in  which  we 
stand  to  each  other  may  not  be  so  pushed  awry,  so  under- 
mined and  broken  down,  that,  when  the  darkness  passes  off, 
the  mischief  can  no  longer  admit  of  remedy,  time  will  show. 
If  my  friend  do  not  break  away,  in  a  few  days  I  myself 
will  come  and  seek  him  out  beside  thee,  and  hold  him  fast. 
Thou  marvellest  how  this  passion  can  have  gained  the 
master}' of  thy  Theresa.  It  is  no  passion,  but  conviction: 
it  is  a  belief,  that,  since  Lothario  can  never  be  mine,  this  new 
friend  will  make  me  happy.  Tell  him  so,  in  the  name  of 
the  little  boy  that  sat  with  him  underneath  the  oak,  and 
thanked  him  for  his  sympathy.  Tell  it  him  in  the  name  of 
Theresa,  who  met  his  offers  with  a  hearty  openness.  My 
first  dream  of  living  with  Lothario  has  wandered  far  away 
from  my  soul :  the  dream  of  living  with  my  other  friend  is 
yet  wholly  present  to  me.  Do  they  hold  me  so  light  as  to 
think  that  it  were  easy  to  exchange  the  former  with  the 
latter  ? ' ' 

"  I  depend  on  you,"  said  Natalia  to  Wilhelm,  handing  him 
the  letter :  "  you  will  not  leave  me.  Consider  that  the  com- 
fort of  my  life  is  in  your  hands.  My  being  is  so  intimately 
bound  and  interwoven  with  my  brother's,  that  he  feels  no 
sorrow  which  I  do  not  feel,  no  joy  which  does  not  likewise 
gladden  me.  Nay,  I  may  truly  say,  through  him  alone  I  have 
experienced  that  the  heart  can  be  affected  and  exalted  ;  that 
in  the  world  there  may  be  joy,  love,  and  an  emotion  which 
contents  the  soul  beyond  its  utmost  want." 

She  stopped:  Wilhelm  took  her  hand,  and  cried,  "Oh, 
continue !  This  is  the  time  for  a.  true,  mutual  disclosure  of 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  39 

our  thoughts  :  it  never  was  more  necessary  for  us  to  be  well 
acquainted  with  each  other." 

"•  Yes,  my  friend  !  "  said  she,  smiling,  with  her  quiet,  soft, 
indescribable  diguity :  "  perhaps  it  is  not  out  of  season,  if 
I  tell  you  that  the  whole  of  what  so  many  books,  of  what  the 
world,  holds  up  to  us  and  names  love,  has  always  seemed  to 
me  a  fable." 

"  You  have  never  loved  ?  "  cried  Wilhelm. 

"  Never  or  always  !  "  said  Natalia. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DURING  this  conversation  they  kept  walking  up  and  down 
the  garden  ;  and  Natalia  gathered  various  flowers  of  singular 
forms,  entirely  unknown  to  Wilhelm,  who  began  to  ask  their 
names,  and  occupy  himself  about  them. 

"  You  know  not,"  said  Natalia,  "  for  whom  I  have  been 
plucking  these?  I  intend  them  for  my  uncle,  whom  we  are 
to  visit.  The  sun  is  shining  even  now  so  bright  on  the  Hall 
of  the  Past,  I  must  lead  you  in  this  moment ;  and  I  never 
go  to  it  without  a  few  of  the  flowers  which  my  uncle  liked 
particularly,  in  my  hand.  He  was  a  peculiar  man,  suscep- 
tible of  very  strange  impressions.  For  certain  plants  and 
animals,  for  certain  neighborhoods  and  persons,  nay,  for 
certain  sorts  of  minerals,  he  had  an  especial  love,  which  he 
was  rarely  able  to  explain.  '  Had  I  not,'  he  would  often 
say,  '  from  youth,  withstood  myself,  and  striven  to  form  my 
judgment  upon  wide  and  general  principles,  I  had  been  the 
narrowest  and  most  intolerable  person  living.  For  nothing 
can  be  more  intolerable  than  circumscribed  peculiarity,  in 
one  from  whom  a  pure  and  suitable  activity  might  be  re- 
quired.' And  yet  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that  life  and 
breath  would,  as  it  were,  leave  him,  if  he  did  not  now  and 
then  indulge  himself,  not  from  time  to  time  allow  himself  a 
brief  and  passionate  enjoyment  of  what  he  could  not  always 
praise  and  justify.  '  It  is  not  my  fault,'  said  he,  '  if  I  have 
not  brought  my  inclinations  and  my  reason  into  perfect  har- 
mony.' On  such  occasions  he  would  joke  with  me,  and  say, 
'  Natalia  may  be  looked  upon  as  happy  while  she  lives  :  her 
nature  asks  nothing  which  the  world  does  not  wish  and  use.' ' 


40  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

So  speaking,  they  arrived  again  at  the  house.  Natalia  led 
him  through  a  spacious  passage  to  a  door,  before  which  lay 
two  gi'anite  sphinxes.  The  door  itself  was  in  the  Egyptian 
fashion,  somewhat  narrower  above  than  below ;  and  its  brazen 
leaves  prepared  one  for  a  serious  or  even  a  gloomy  feeling. 
Wilhelm  was,  in  consequence,  agreeably  surprised,  when  his 
expectation  issued  in  a  sentiment  of  pure,  cheerful  serenity, 
as  he  entered  a  hall  where  art  and  life  took  away  all  recol- 
lection of  death  and  the  grave.  In  the  walls  all  round,  a 
series  of  proportionable  arches  had  been  hollowed  out,  and 
large  sarcophaguses  stood  in  them  :  among  the  pillars  in  the 
intervals  between  them  smaller  openings  might  be  seen, 
adorned  with  urns  and  similar  vessels.  The  remaining  spaces 
of  the  walls  and  vaulted  roof  were  regularly  divided ;  and 
between  bright  and  variegated  borders,  within  garlands  and 
other  ornaments,  a  multitude  of  cheerful  and  significant 
figures  had  been  painted  upon  grounds  of  different  sizes. 
The  body  of  the  edifice  was  covered  with  that  fine,  yellow 
marble,  which  passes  into  reddish :  clear  blue  stripes  of  a 
chemical  substance,  happily  imitating  azure  stone,  while  they 
satisfied  the  eye  with  contrast,  gave  unity  and  combination 
to  the  whole.  All  this  pomp  and  decoration  showed  itself 
in  the  chastest  architectural  forms  :  and  thus  every  one  who 
entered  felt  as  if  exalted  above  himself ;  while  the  co-operat- 
ing products  of  art,  for  the  first  time,  taught  him  what  man 
is  and  what  he  may  become. 

Opposite  the  door,  on  a  stately  sarcophagus,  lay  a  marble 
figure  of  a  noble-looking  man,  reclined  upon  a  pillow.  He 
held  a  roll  before  him,  and  seemed  to  look  at  it  with  still  at- 
tention. It  was  placed  so  that  you  could  read  with  ease 
the  words  which  stood  there  :  Think  of  living. 

Natalia  took  away  a  withered  bunch  of  flowers,  and  laid 
the  fresh  one  down  before  the  figure  of  her  uncle.  For  it 
was  her  uncle  whom  the  marble  represented.  Wilhelm 
thought  he  recognized  the  features  of  the  venerable  gentle- 
man whom  he  had  seen  when  lying  wounded  in  the  green 
of  the  forest.  "  Here  he  and  I  passed  many  an  hour,"  said 
Natalia,  "while  the  hall  was  getting  ready.  In  his  latter 
years,  he  had  gathered  several  skilful  artists  round  him  ;  and 
his  chief  delight  was  to  invent  or  superintend  the  drawings 
and  cartoons  for  these  pictures." 

Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  the  objects 
which  surrounded  him.  "  What  a  life,"  exclaimed  he,  "  in 
this  Hall  of  the  Past !  One  might  with  equal  justice  name 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  41 

it  Hall  of  the  Present  and  the  Future.  Such  all  were,  such 
all  will  be.  There  is  nothing  transitory  but  the  individual 
who  looks  at  and  enjoys  it.  Here,  this  figure  of  the  mother 
pressing  her  infant  to  her  bosom  will  survive  many  genera- 
tions of  happy  mothers.  Centuries  hence,  perhaps  some 
father  will  take  pleasure  in  contemplating  this  bearded  man, 
who  has  laid  aside  his  seriousness,  and  is  playing  with  nis 
son.  Thus  shame-faced  will  the  bride  sit  for  ages,  and,  amid 
her  silent  wishes,  need  that  she  be  comforted,  that  she  be 
spoken  to  ;  thus  impatient  will  the  bridegroom  listen  on  the 
threshold  whether  he  may  enter." 

The  figures  Wilhelm  was  surveying  with  such  rapture  were 
of  almost  boundless  number  and  variety.  From  the  first 
jocund  impulse  of  the  child,  merely  to  employ  its  every  limb 
in  sport,  up  to  the  peaceful,  sequestered  earnestness  of  the 
sage,  you  might,  in  fair  and  living  order,  see  delineated  how 
man  possesses  no  capacity  or  tendency  without  employing 
and  enjoying  it.  From  the  first  soft,  conscious  feeling,  when 
the  maiden  lingers  in  pulling  up  her  pitcher,  and  looks  with 
satisfaction  at  her  image  in  the  clear  fountain,  to  those  high 
solemnities  when  kings  and  nations  invoke  the  gods  at  the 
altar  to  witness  their  alliances,  all  was  depicted,  all  was 
forcible  and  full  of  meaning. 

It  was  a  world,  it  was  a  heaven,  that  in  this  abode  sur- 
rounded the  spectator ;  and  beside  the  thoughts  which  those 
polished  forms  suggested,  beside  the  feelings  they  awoke, 
there  still  seemed  something  further  to  be  present,  something 
by  which  the  whole  man  felt  himself  laid  hold  of.  Wilhelm, 
too,  observed  this,  though  unable  to  account  for  it.  "  What 
is  tin's,"  exclaimed  he,  "  which  independently  of  all  signi- 
fication, without  any  sympathy  that  human  incidents  and 
fortunes  may  inspire  us  with,  acts  on  me  so  sti'ongly  and  so 
gracefully?  It  speaks  to  me  from  the  whole,  it  speaks  from 
every  part ;  though  I  have  not  fully  understood  the  former, 
though  I  do  not  specially  apply  the  latter  to  myself.  What 
enchantment  breathes  from  these  surfaces,  these  lines,  these 
heights  and  breadths,  these  masses  and  colors  !  What  is  it 
that  makes  these  figures  so  delightful,  even  when  slightly 
viewed,  and  merely  in  the  light  of  decorations  ?  Yes,  I  feel 
it :  one  might  tarry  here,  might  rest,  might  view  the  whole, 
and  be  happy  ;  and  yet  feel  and  think  something  altogether 
different  from  aught  that  stood  before  his  eyes." 

And  certainly,  if  we  were  able  to  describe  how  happily 
the  whole  was  subdivided,  how  every  thing  determined  by  its 


42  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

place,  by  combination  or  by  contrast,  by  uniformity  or  by 
variety,  appeared  exactly  as  it  should  have  done,  producing 
an  effect  as  perfect  as  distinct,  we  should  transport  the  reader 
to  a  scene  from  which  he  would  not  be  in  haste  to  stir. 

Four  large  marble  candelabras  rose  in  the  corners  of  the 
hall :  four  smaller  ones  were  in  the  midst  of  it,  around  a 
very  beautifully  worked  sarcophagus,  which,  judging  from 
its  size,  might  once  have  held  a  young  person  of  middle 
stature. 

Natalia  paused  beside  this  monument :  she  laid  her  hand 
upon  it  as  she  said,  "  My  worthy  uncle  had  a  great  attach- 
ment to  this  fine  antique.  'It  is  not,'  he  would  often  say, 
'  the  first  blossoms  alone  that  drop  ;  such  you  can  keep  above, 
in  these  little  spaces  ;  but  fruits  also,  which,  hanging  on  their 
twigs,  long  give  us  the  fairest  hope,  whilst  a  secret  worm 
is  preparing  their  too  early  ripeness  and  their  quick  decay.' 
I  fear,"  continued  she,  "  his  words  have  been  prophetic  of 
that  dear  little  girl,  who  seems  withdrawing  gradually  from 
our  cares,  and  bending  to  this  peaceful  dwelling." 

As  they  were  about  to  go,  Natalia  stopped,  and  said, ' '  There 
is  something  still  which  merits  your  attention.  Observe 
these  half-round  openings  aloft  on  both  sides.  Here  the  choir 
can  stand  concealed  while  singing :  these  iron  ornaments 
below  the  cornice  serve  for  fastening  on  the  tapestry,  which, 
by  order  of  my  uncle,  must  be  hung  round  at  every  burial. 
Music,  particularly  song,  was  a  pleasure  he  could  not  live 
without ;  and  it  was  one  of  his  peculiarities,  that  he  wished 
the  singer  not  to  be  in  view.  '  In  this  respect,'  he  would 
say,  '  they  spoil  us  at  the  theatre :  the  music  there  is, 
as  it  were,  subservient  to  the  eye ;  it  accompanies  move- 
ments, not  emotions.  In  oratorios  and  conceits,  the  form  of 
the  musician  constantly  disturbs  us  ;  true  music  is  intended 
for  the  ear  alone :  a  fine  voice  is  the  most  universal  thing 
that  can  be  figured ;  and,  while  the  narrow  individual  that 
uses  it  presents  himself  before  the  eye,  he  cannot  fail  to 
trouble  the  effect  of  that  pure  universality.  The  person  whom 
I  am  to  speak  with,  I  must  see  ;  because  it  is  a  solitary  man, 
whose  form  and  character  give  worth  or  worthlessness  to 
what  he  says  :  but,  on  the  other  hand,  whoever  sings  to  me 
must  be  invisible ;  his  form  must  not  confuse  me,  or  corrupt 
my  judgment.  Here  it  is  but  one  human  organ  speaking  to 
another :  it  is  not  spirit  speaking  to  spirit,  not  a  thousand- 
fold world  to  the  eye,  not  a  heaven  to  the  man.'  On  the 
same  principles,  in  respect  of  instrumental  music,  he  required 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  43 

that  the  orchestra  should  as  much  as  possible  be  hid  ;  because, 
by  the  mechanical  exertions,  by  the  mean  and  awkward  ges- 
tures of  the  performers,  our  feelings  are  so  much  dispersed 
and  perplexed.  Accordingly,  he  always  used  to  shut  his 
eyes  while  hearing  music ;  thereby  to  concentrate  his  whole 
being  on  the  single  pure  enjoyment  of  the  ear." 

They  were  about  to  leave  the  hall,  when  they  heard  the 
children  running  hastily  along  the  passage,  and  Felix  crying, 
"No,  I!  No,  I!" 

Mignon  rushed  in  at  the  open  door :  she  was  foremost,  but 
out  of  breath,  and  could  not  speak  a  word.  Felix,  still  at 
some  distance,  shouted  out,  "Mamma  Theresa  is  come!  " 
The  children  had  run  a  race,  as  it  seemed,  to  bring  the  news. 
Mignon  was  lying  in  Natalia's  arms  :  her  heart  was  beating 
vehemently. 

"  Naughty  child,"  said  Natalia,  "  art  thou  not  forbidden 
to  make  violent  exertions?  See  how  thy  heart  is  beating !  " 

"  Let  it  break  !  "  said  Migiion  with  a  deep  sigh  :  "  it  has 
beat  too  long." 

They  had  scarcely  composed  themselves  from  this  surprise, 
this  sort  of  consternation,  when  Theresa  entered.  She  flew 
to  Natalia,  clasped  her  and  Mignou  in  her  arms.  Then, 
turning  round  to  Wilhelm,  she  looked  at  him  with  her  clear 
eyes,  and  said  "Well,  my  friend,  how  it  is  with  you? 
You  have  not  let  them  cheat  you  ?  ' '  He  made  a  step  towards 
her:  she  sprang  to  him,  and  hung  upon  his  neck.  "O  my 
Theresa!  "  cried  he. 

"  My  friend,  my  love,  my  husband !  Yes,  forever  thine  ! " 
cried  she,  amid  the  warmest  kisses. 

Felix  pulled  her  by  the  gown,  and  cried,  "  Mamma  Theresa, 
I  am  here  too!  "  Natalia  stood,  and  looked  before  her: 
Miguon  on  a  sudden  clapped  her  left  hand  on  her  heart,  and, 
stretching  out  the  right  arm  violently,  fell  with  a  shriek  at 
Natalia's  feet,  as  dead. 

The  fright  was  great :  no  motion  of  the  heart  or  pulse  was 
to  be  traced.  Wilhelm  took  her  on  his  arm,  and  hastily 
carried  her  away :  the  body  hung  lax  over  his  shoulders. 
The  presence  of  the  doctor  was  of  small  avail :  he  and  the 
young  surgeon,  whom  we  know  already,  strove  in  vain.  The 
dear  little  creature  could  not  be  recalled  to  life. 

Natalia  beckoned  to  Theresa  :  the  latter  took  her  friend  by 
the  hand,  and  led  him  from  the  room.  He  v/as  dumb,  not 
uttering  a  word  :  he  durst  not  meet  her  eyes.  He  sat  down 
with  her  upon  the  sofa,  where  he  had  lirst  found  Natalia. 


44  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

He  thought  with  great  rapidity  along  a  scries  of  fateful  in- 
cidents, or,  rather,  he  did  not  think,  but  let  his  soul  be  worked 
on  by  the  thoughts  which  would  not  leave  it.  There  are 
moments  in  life  when  past  events,  like  winged  shuttles,  dart 
to  and  fro  before  us,  and  by  their  incessant  movements 
weave  a  web  which  we  ourselves,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
have  spun  and  put  upon  the  loom.  "  My  friend,  my  love  !  " 
said  Theresa,  breaking  silence,  as  she  took  him  by  the  hand, 
"let  us  stand  together  firmly  in  this  hour,  as  we  perhaps 
shall  often  have  to  do  in  similar  hours.  These  are  occur- 
rences which  it  takes  two  united  hearts  to  suffer.  Think, 
my  friend,  feel,  that  thou  art  not  alone  :  show  that  thou  lovest 
thy  Theresa  by  imparting  thy  sorrows  to  her!  "  She  em- 
braced him,  and  drew  him  softly  to  her  bosom :  he  clasped 
her  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  her  strongly  towards  him. 
"  The  poor  child,"  cried  he,  "  used  in  mournful  moments  to 
seek  shelter  and  protection  in  my  unstable  bosom :  let  the 
stability  of  thine  assist  me  in  this  heavy  hour."  They  held 
each  other  fast ;  he  felt  her  heart  beat  against  his  breast ; 
but  in  his  spirit  all  was  desolate  and  void :  only  the  figures 
of  Mignou  and  Natalia  flitted  like  shadows  across  the  waste 
of  his  imagination. 

Natalia  entered.  "  Give  us  thy  blessing !  "  cried  Theresa : 
"  let  us,  in  this  melancholy  moment,  be  united  before  thee !  " 
Wilhelm  had  hid  his  face  upon  Theresa's  neck :  he  was  so 
far  relieved  that  he  could  weep.  He  did  not  hear  Natalia 
come  ;  he  did  not  see  her ;  but,  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  his 
tears  redoubled.  ''What  God  has  joined  I  will  not  part," 
she  answered,  smiling,  "  but  to  unite  you  is  not  in  rny  power ; 
nor  am  I  gratified  to  see  that  sorrow  and  sympathy  seem  al- 
together to  have  banished  from  your  hearts  the  recollection 
of  my  brother."  At  these  words,  Wilhelm  started  from 
Theresa's  arms.  "Whither  are  you  going?"  cried  the 
ladies.  "  Let  me  see  the  child,"  said  he,  "  whom  I  have 
killed  !  Misfortune,  when  we  look  upon  it  with  our  eyes,  is 
smaller  than  when  our  imagination  sinks  the  evil  down  into 
the  recesses  of  the  soul.  Let  us  view  the  departed  angel ! 
Her  serene  countenance  will  say  to  us  that  it  is  well  with 
her."  As  his  friends  could  not  restrain  the  agitated  youth, 
they  followed  him ;  but  the  worthy  doctor  with  the  surgeon 
met  them,  and  prevented  them  from  coming  near  the  dead. 
"  Keep  away  from  this  mournful  object,"  said  he,  "  and 
allow  me,  so  far  as  I  am  able,  to  give  some  continuance  to 
these  remains.  On  this  dear  and  singular  being  I  will  now 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  45 

display  the  beautiful  art,  not  only  of  embalming  bodies,  but 
of  retaining  in  them  a  look  of  life.  As  I  foresaw  her  death, 
the  preparations  are  already  made :  with  these  helps  I  shall 
undoubtedly  succeed.  Give  me  but  a  few  days,  and  ask  not 
to  see  the  child  again  till  I  have  brought  her  to  the  Hall  of 
the  Past." 

The  young  surgeon  had  in  his  hands  that  well-known  case 
of  instruments.  "  From  whom  can  he  have  got  it?  "  Wil- 
helm  asked  the  doctor.  "  I  know  it  very  well,"  replied 
Natalia :  "  he  has  it  from  his  father,  who  dressed  your 
wounds  when  we  found  you  in  the  forest." 

"  Then,  I  have  not  been  mistaken  !  I  recognized  the  band 
at  once  !  "  cried  Wilhelm.  "  Oh,  get  it  for  me  !  It  was  this 
that  first  gave  me  any  hint  of  my  unknown  benefactress. 
What  weal  and  woe  will  such  a  thing  survive !  Beside  how 
many  sorrows  has  this  band  already  been,  and  its  threads 
still  hold  together!  How  many  men's  last  moments  has  it 
witnessed,  and  its  colors  are  not  yet  faded !  It  was  near  me 
in  one  of  the  fairest  hours  of  my  existence,  when  I  lay 
wounded  on  the  ground,  and  }Tour  helpful  form  appeared 
before  me,  and  the  child  whom  we  are  now  lamenting  sat 
with  its  bloody  hair,  busied  with  the  tenderest  care  to  save 
my  life!" 

It  was  not  long  that  our  friends  could  converse  about  this 
sad  occurrence,  that  Theresa  could  inquire  about  the  child, 
and  the  probable  cause  of  its  unexpected  death  ;  for  strangers 
were  announced,  who,  on  making  their  appearance,  proved 
to  be  well-known  strangers.  Lothario,  Jarno,  and  the  abbe" 
entered.  Natalia  met  her  brother :  among  the  rest  there  was 
a  momentaiy  silence.  Theresa,  smiling  on  Lothario,  said, 
"  You  scarcely  expected  to  find  me  here  ;  of  course,  it  would 
not  have  been  advisable  that  we  should  visit  one  another  at 
the  present  time  :  however,  after  such  an  absence,  take  my 
cordial  welcome." 

Lothario  took  her  hand,  and  answered,  "  If  we  are  to 
suffer  and  renounce,  it  may  as  well  take  place  in  the  presence 
of  the  object  whom  we  love  and  wish  for.  I  desire  no  in- 
fluence on  your  determination :  my  confidence  in  your  heart, 
in  j'our  understanding,  and  clear  sense,  is  still  so  great,  that 
I  willingly  commit  to  your  disposal  my  fate  and  that  of  my 
friend." 

The  conversation  turned  immediately  to  general,  nay,  we 
may  say,  to  trivial,  topics.  The  company  soon  separated  into 
single  pairs,  for  walking.  Natalia  was  with  her  brother, 


46  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Theresa  with  the  abbe" :  our  friend  was  left  with  Jarno  in 
the  castle. 

The  appearance  of  the  guests  at  the  moment  when  a  heavy 
sorrow  was  oppressing  Wilhelm  had,  instead  of  dissipating 
his  attention,  irritated  him,  and  made  him  worse :  he  was 
fretful  and  suspicious,  and  unable  or  uncareful  to  conceal  it, 
when  Jarno  questioned  him  about  his  sulky  silence.  "  What 
is  the  use  of  saying  more  ?  "  cried  Wilhelm.  "  Lothario  with 
his  helpers  is  come  ;  and  it  were  strange  if  those  mysterious 
watchmen  of  the  tower,  who  are  constantly  so  busy,  did  not 
now  exert  their  influence  on  us,  to  effect  I  know  not  what 
strange  purpose.  So  far  as  I  have  known  these  saintly 
gentlemen,  it  seems  to  be  in  every  case  their  laudable  en- 
deavor to  separate  the  united  and  to  unite  the  separated. 
What  sort  of  web  their  weaving  will  produce  may  probably 
to  unholy  eyes  be  forever  a  riddle." 

"  You  are  cross  and  bitter,"  said  the  other:  "  that  is  as 
it  should  be.  Would  you  get  into  a  proper  passion,  it  were 
still  better." 

"  That,  too,  might  come  about,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  I  fear 
much  some  of  you  are  in  the  mind  to  load  my  patience, 
natural  and  acquired,  beyond  what  it  will  bear." 

"In  the  mean  time,"  said  the  other,  "  till  we  see  what  is 
to  be  the  issue  of  the  matter,  I  could  like  to  tell  you  some- 
what of  the  tower  which  you  appear  to  view  with  such  mis- 
trust." 

"It  stands  with  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "whether  you  will 
risk  your  eloquence  on  an  attention  so  distracted.  My  mind 
is  so  engaged  at  present,  that  I  know  not  whether  I  can  take 
a  proper  interest  in  these  very  dignified  adventures." 

"  Your  pleasing  humor  shall  not  hinder  me,"  said  Jarno, 
"  from  explaining  this  affair  to  you.  You  reckon  me  a  clever 
fellow  ;  I  want  to  make  you  reckon  me  an  honest  one  :  and, 
what  is  more,  on  this  occasion  I  am  bidden  speak."  —  "I 
could  wish,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  that  you  did  it  of  yourself,  and 
with  an  honest  purpose  to  inform  me  ;  but,  as  I  cannot  hear 
without  suspicion,  wherefore  should  I  hear  at  all?  "  —  "  If  I 
have  nothing  better  to  do,"  said  Jarno,  "  than  tell  you  stories, 
you,  too,  have  time  to  listen  to  me ;  and  to  this  you  may 
perhaps  feel  more  inclined,  when  I  assure  you.  that  all  you 
saw  in  the  tower  was  but  the  relics  of  a  youthful  undertak- 
ing, in  regard  to  which  the  greater  part  of  the  initiated  were 
once  in  deep  earnest,  though  all  of  them  now  view  it  with 
a  smile." 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  47 

*'  So,  with  these  pompous  signs  and  words,,  you  do  but 
mock?"  cried  Wilhelm.  "  With  a  solemn  air,  you  lead  us 
to  a  place  inspiring  reverence  by  its  aspect ;  you  make  the 
strangest  visions  pass  before  us ;  you  give  us  rolls  full  of 
glorious  mystic  apothegms,  of  which,  in  truth,  we  understand 
but  little ;  you  disclose  to  us,  that  hitherto  we  have  been 
pupils ;  you  solemnly  pronounce  us  free ;  and  we  are  just  as 
wise  as  we  were."  —  "  Have  you  not  the  parchment  by  you?  " 
said  the  other.  "  It  contains  a  deal  of  sense  :  those  general 
apothegms  were  not  picked  up  at  random,  though  they  seem 
obscure  and  empty  to  a  man  without  experiences  to  recollect 
while  reading  them.  But  give  me  the  Indenture,  as  we  call 
it,  if  it  is  at  hand."  —  "Quite  at  hand,"  cried  Wilhelm : 
"  such  an  amulet  well  merits  being  worn  upon  one's  breast." 
—  "Well,"  said  Jarno,  smiling,  "who  knows  whether  the 
contents  of  it  may  not  one  day  find  place  in  your  head  and 
heart?" 

He  opened  the  roll,  and  glanced  over  the  first  half  of  it. 
"This,"  said  he,  "regards  the  cultivation  of  our  gifts  for 
art  and  science,  of  which  let  others  speak  :  the  second  treats 
of  life  ;  here  I  am  more  at  home." 

He  then  began  to  read  passages,  speaking  between  whiles, 
and  connecting  them  with  his  remarks  and  narrative.  "  The 
taste  of  youth  for  secrecy,  for  ceremonies,  for  imposing 
words,  is  extraordinary,  and  frequently  bespeaks  a  certain 
depth  of  character.  In  those  years  we  wish  to  feel  our  whole 
nature  seized  and  moved,  even  though  it  be  but  vaguely  and 
darkly.  The  youth  who  happens  to  have  lofty  aspirations 
and  forecastings  thinks  that  secrets  yield  him  much,  that  he 
must  depend  much  on  secrets,  and  effect  much  by  means  of 
them.  It  was  with  such  views  that  the  abbe"  favored  a 
certain  society  of  young  men,  partly  according  to  his  prin- 
ciple of  aiding  every  tendency  of  nature,  parti}'  out  of  habit 
and  inclination  ;  for  in  former  times  he  had  himself  been 
joined  to  an  association  which  appears  to  have  accomplished 
many  things  in  secret.  For  this  business  I  was  least  of 
all  adapted.  I  was  older  than  the  rest ;  from  youth  I 
had  thought  clearly ;  I  wished  in  all  things  nothing  more 
than  clearness  ;  I  felt  no  interest  in  men  but  to  know  them 
as  they  were.  With  the  same  taste  I  gradually  infected 
all  the  best  of  our  associates,  and  this  circumstance  had 
almost  given  a  false  direction  to  our  plan  of  culture.  For 
we  now  began  to  look  at  nothing  but  the  errors  and  the  nar- 
rowness of  others,  and  to  think  ourselves  a  set  of  highly 


48  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

gifted  personages.  Here  the  abbe  came  to  our  assistance : 
he  taught  us  that  we  never  should  inspect  the  conduct  of 
men,  unless  we  at  the  same  time  took  an  interest  in  improv- 
ing it ;  and  that  through  action  only  could  we  ever  be  in  a 
condition  to  inspect  and  watch  ourselves.  He  advised  us, 
however,  to  retain  the  primary  forms  of  the  society :  hence 
there  was  still  a  sort  of  law  in  our  proceedings ;  the  first 
mystic  impressions  might  be  traced  in  the  constitution  of  the 
whole.  At  length,  as  by  a  practical  similitude,  it  took  the 
form  of  a  corporate  trade,  whose  business  was  the  arts. 
Hence  came  the  names  of  apprentices,  assistants,  and 
masters.  We  wished  to  see  with  our  own  eyes,  and  to  form 
for  ourselves,  a  special  record  of  our  own  experience  in  the 
world.  Hence  those  numerous  confessions  which  in  part  we 
ourselves  wrote,  in  part  made  others  write,  and  out  of  which 
the  several  Apprenticeships  were  afterwards  compiled.  The 
formation  of  his  character  is  not  the  chief  concern  with 
every  man.  Many  merely  wish  to  find  a  sort  of  recipe  for 
comfort,  directions  for  acquiring  riches,  or  whatever  good 
they  aim  at.  All  such,  when  they  would  not  be  instructed 
in  their  proper  duties,  we  were  wont  to  mystify,  to  treat  with 
juggleries,  and  every  sort  of  hocus-pocus,  and  at  length  to 
shove  aside.  We  advanced  none  to  the  rank  of  masters,  but 
such  as  clearly  felt  and  recognized  the  purpose  they  were  born 
for,  and  had  got  enough  of  practice  to  proceed  along  their 
way  with  a  certain  cheerfulness  and  ease." 

"In  my  case,  then,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "your  ceremony  has 
been  very  premature  ;  for,  since  the  day  when  you  pronounced 
me  free,  what  I  can,  will,  or  shall  do  has  been  more  unknown 
to  me  than  ever." — "We  are  not  to  blame  for  this  per- 
plexity :  perhaps  good  fortune  will  deliver  us.  In  the  mean 
time,  listen  :  '  He  in  whom  there  is  much  to  be  developed  will 
be  later  in  acquiring  true  perceptions  of  himself  and  of  the 
world.  There  are  few  who  at  once  have  Thought  and  the 
capacity  of  Action.  Thought  expands,  but  lames  :  Action 
animates,  but  narrows.'  ' 

"I  beg  of  you,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "not  to  read  me  any 
more  of  that  surprising  stuff.  These  phrases  have  sufficiently 
confused  me  before."  —  "Iwill  stick  by  my  story,  then," 
said  Jarno,  half  rolling  up  the  parchment,  into  which,  how- 
ever, he  kept  casting  frequent  glances.  "  I  myself  have 
been  of  less  service  to  the  cause  of  our  society,  and  of  my 
fellow-men,  than  any  other  member.  I  am  but  a  bad  school- 
irmster :  1  cannot  bear  to  look  on  people  making  awkward 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  49 

trials  ;  when  I  see  a  person  wander  from  his  path,  I  feel  con- 
strained to  call  to  him,  although  it  were  a  night-walker  going 
straight  to  break  his  neck.  On  this  point  I  had  a  continual 
struggle  with  the  abbe,  who  maintains  that  error  can  never 
be  cured,  except  by  erring.  About  you,  too,  we  often 
argued.  He  had  taken  an  especial  liking  to  you,  and  it  is 
saying  something  to  have  caught  so  much  of  his  attention. 
For  me,  you  must  admit,  that  eveiy  time  we  met  I  told  you 
just  the  naked  truth." — "Certainly,  you  spared  me  very 
little,"  said  the  other ;  "  and  I  think  you  still  continue  faithful 
to  your  principles."  —  "What  is  the  use  of  sparing,"  an- 
swered Jarno,  "when  a  young  man  of  many  good  endow- 
ments is  taking  a  quite  false  direction?"  —  "Pardon  me," 
said  Wilhelm :  "you  have  rigorously  enough  denied  me 
any  talent  for  the  stage ;  I  confess  to  j'ou,  that,  though  I 
have  entirely  renounced  the  art,  I  cannot  think  myself  en- 
tirely incapable."  —  "  And  with  me,"  said  Jarno,  "  it  is  well 
enough  decided,  that  a  person  who  can  only  play  himself  is 
no  player.  Whoever  cannot  change  himself,  in  temper  and 
in  form,  into  many  forms,  does  not  deserve  the  name.  Thus 
you,  for  example,  acted  Hamlet,  and  some  other  characters, 
extremely  well ;  because,  in  these,  your  form,  your  disposi- 
tion, and  the  temper  of  the  moment,  suited.  For  an  amateur 
theatre,  for  any  one  who  saw  no  other  way  before  him,  this 
would,  perhaps,  have  answered  well  enough.  But,"  con- 
tinued Jarno,  looking  on  the  roll,  "  '  we  should  guard  against 
a  talent  which  we  cannot  hope  to  practise  in  perfection. 
Improve  it  as  we  may,  we  shall  always,  in  the  end,  when 
the  merit  of  the  master  has  become  apparent  to  us,  pain- 
fully lament  the  loss  of  time  and  strength  devoted  to  such 
botching.' ' 

"  Do  not  read  !  "  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  I  entreat  you  earnestly, 
speak  on,  tell,  inform  me !  So,  the  abbe"  aided  me  in  Ham- 
let: he  provided  me  a  Ghost?"  —  "Yes;  for  he  asserted 
that  it  was  the  only  way  of  curing  you,  if  you  were  curable." 

—  "  And  on  this  account  he  left  the  veil,  and  bade  me  flee  ?  " 

—  "Yes:  he  hoped,  that,  having  fairly  acted  Hamlet,  your 
desire  of  acting  would  be  satiated.     He  maintained  that  you 
would  never  go  upon  the  stage  again  :  I  believed  the  contrary, 
and  I  was  right.     We  argued  on  the  subject  that  very  even- 
ing, when  the  play  was  over."  —  "  You  saw  me  act,  then?  " 

—  "I   did  indeed."  —  "  And  who  was  it  that   played  the 
Ghost?  "  —  "  That  I  cannot  tell  you  :  either  the  abbe  or  his 
twin-brother ;  but  I  think  the  latter,  for  he  is  a  little  taller." 


50  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

—  "  You,  then,  have  secrets  from  each  other?  "  —  "  Friends 
may  and  must  have  secrets  from,  but  they  are  not  secrets  to, 
each  other." 

"  The  very  thought  of  that  perplexity  perplexes  me.  Let 
me  understand  the  man  to  whom  I  owe  so  many  thanks  as 
well  as  such  reproaches." 

"  What  gives  him  such  a  value  in  our  estimation,"  answered 
Jarno,  "  what,  in  some  degree,  secures  him  the  dominion  over 
all  of  us,  is  the  free,  sharp  eye  that  nature  has  bestowed  on 
him,  for  all  the  powers  which  dwell  in  man,  and  are  suscepti- 
ble of  cultivation,  each  according  to  its  kind.  Most  men,  even 
the  most  accomplished,  are  but  limited :  each  prizes  certain 
properties  in  others  and  himself  ;  these  alone  he  favors,  these 
alone  will  he  have  cultivated.  Directly  the  reverse  is  the 
procedure  of  our  abb6  :  for  every  gift  he  has  a  feeling  ;  every 
gift  he  delights  to  recognize  and  forward.  But  I  must  look 
into  my  roll  again  !  '  It  is  all  men  that  make  up  mankind, 
all  powers  taken  together  that  make  up  the  world.  These 
are  frequently  at  variance ;  and,  as  they  endeavor  to  destroy 
each  other,  Nature  holds  them  together,  and  again  produces 
them.  From  the  first  animal  tendency  to  handicraft  attempts, 
up  to  the  highest  practising  of  intellectual  art ;  from  the  in- 
articulate Growings  of  the  happy  infant,  up  to  the  polished 
utterance  of  the  orator  and  singer ;  from  the  first  bickerings 
of  boys,  up  to  the  vast  equipments  by  which  countries  are 
conquered  and  retained ;  from  the  slightest  kindliness,  and 
the  most  transitory  love,  up  to  the  fiercest  passion,  and  the 
most  earnest  covenant ;  from  the  merest  perception  of  sensi- 
ble presence,  up  to  the  faintest  presentiments  and  hopes  of 
the  remotest  spiritual  future,  — all  this,  and  much  more  also, 
lies  in  man,  and  must  be  cultivated,  yet  not  in  one,  but  in 
many.  Every  gift  is  valuable,  and  ought  to  be  unfolded. 
When  one  encourages  the  beautiful  alone,  and  another  encour- 
ages the  useful  alone,  it  takes  them  both  to  form  a  man.  The 
useful  encourages  itself  ;  for  the  multitude  produce  it,  and  no 
one  can  dispense  with  it :  the  beautiful  must  be  encouraged ; 
for  few  can  set  it  forth,  and  man}'  need  it.' ' 

"  Hold  !  Hold  !  "  cried  Wilhelm  :  "  I  have  read  it  all."— 
"  Yet  a  line  or  two  !  "  said  Jarno.  "  Here  is  our  worthy 
abbe"  to  a  hair's-breadth :  '  One  power  rules  another,  none 
can  cultivate  another:  in  each  endowment,  and  not  else- 
where, lies  the  force  which  must  complete  it ;  this  many 
people  do  not  understand,  who  yet  attempt  to  teach  and  in- 
fluence.' "  —  "  Nor  do  I  understand  it,"  answered  Wilhelru. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  51 

—  "You  will  often  hear  the  abbe"  preach  on  this  text;  and, 
therefore,  '  Let  us  merely  keep  a  clear  and  stead}-  eye  on 
what  is  in  ourselves,  on  what  endowments  of  our  own  we 
mean  to  cultivate  :  let  us  be  just  to  others,  for  we  ourselves 
are  only  to  be  valued  in  so  far  as  we  can  value.'  "  —  "  For 
Heaven's  sake,  no  more  of  these  wise  saws !  I  feel  them  to 
be  but  a  sorry  balsam  for  a  wounded  heart.  Tell  me,  rather, 
with  your  cruel  settleduess,  what  you  expect  of  me,  how, 
and  in  what  manner,  you  intend  to  sacrifice  me."  —  "For 
every  such  suspicion,  I  assure  you,  you  will  afterwards  beg 
our  pardon.  It  is  your  affair  to  try  and  choose :  it  is  ours 
to  aid  you.  A  man  is  never  happy  till  his  vague  striving 
has  itself  marked  out  its  proper  limitation.  It  is  not  to  me 
that  you  must  look,  but  to  the  abbe :  it  is  not  of  yourself 
that  you  must  think,  but  of  what  surrounds  3-011.  Thus,  for 
instance,  learn  to  understand  Lothario's  superiority  ;  how  his 
quick  and  comprehensive  vision  is  inseparably  united  with 
activity ;  how  he  constantly  advances ;  how  he  expands  his 
influence,  and  carries  every  one  along  with  him.  Wherever 
he  may  be,  he  bears  a  world  about  with  him :  his  presence 
animates  and  kindles.  Observe  our  good  physician,  on  the 
other  hand.  His  nature  seems  to  be  directly  the  reverse.  If 
the  former  only  works  upon  the  general  whole,  and  at  a  dis- 
tance, the  latter  turns  his  piercing  eye  upon  the  things  that  are 
beside  him :  he  rather  furnishes  the  means  for  being  active, 
than  himself  displays  or  stimulates  activity.  His  conduct  is 
exactly  like  the  conduct  of  a  good  domestic  manager :  he 
is  busied  silently,  while  he  provides  for  each  in  his  peculiar 
sphere  ;  his  knowledge  is  a  constant  gathering  and  expand- 
ing, a  taking  in  and  giving  out  on  a  small  scale.  Perhaps 
Lothario  in  a  single  day  might  overturn  what  the  other  had 
for  years  been  employed  in  building  up  ;  but  perhaps  Lothario 
also  might  impart  to  others,  in  a  moment,  strength  sufficient 
to  restore  a  hundred-fold  what  he  had  overturned."  —  "  It  is 
but  a  sad  employment,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "to  contemplate 
the  sublime  advantages  of  others,  at  a  moment  when  we  are 
at  variance  with  ourselves.  Such  contemplations  suit  the  man 
at  ease,  not  him  whom  passion  and  uncertainty  are  agitat- 
ing." —  "  Peacefully  and  reasonably  to  contemplate  is  at  no 
time  hurtful,"  answered  Jarno  :  "  and,  while  we  use  ourselves 
to  think  of  the  advantages  of  others,  our  own  mind  comes  in- 
sensibly to  imitate  them  ;  and  every  false  activity,  to  which 
our  fancy  was  alluring  us,  is  then  willingly  abandoned.  Free 
your  mind,  if  you  can,  from  all  suspicion  and  anxiety.  Here 


52  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

comes  the  abbd :  be  courteous  towards  him,  till  you  have 
learned  still  further  what  you  owe  him.  The  rogue  !  There 
he  goes  between  Natalia  and  Theresa :  I  could  bet  he  is  con- 
triving something.  As  in  general  he  rather  likes  to  act  the 
part  of  Destiny  ;  so  he  does  not  fail  to  show  a  taste  for  mak- 
ing matches  when  he  finds  an  opportunity." 

Wilhelm,  whose  angry  and  fretful  humor  all  the  placid, 
prudent  words  of  Jarno  had  not  bettered,  thought  his  friend 
exceedingly  indelicate  for  mentioning  marriage  at  a  moment 
like  the  present:  he  answered,  with  a  smile  indeed,  but  a 
rather  bitter  one,  "I  thought  the  taste  for  making  matches 
had  been  left  to  those  that  had  a  taste  for  one  another." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  company  had  met  again :  the  conversation  of  our 
friends  was  necessarily  interrupted.  Erelong  a  courier  was 
announced,  as  wishing  to  deliver  with  his  own  hand  a  letter 
to  Lothario.  The  man  was  introduced :  he  had  a  vigorous, 
sufficient  look ;  his  livery  was  rich  and  handsome.  Wilhelm 
thought  he  knew  him,  nor  was  he  mistaken  ;  for  it  was  the 
man  whom  he  had  sent  to  seek  Philina  and  the  fancied  Mari- 
ana, and  who  never  came  back.  Our  friend  was  about  to 
address  him,  when  Lothario,  who  had  read  the  letter,  asked 
the  courier  with  a  serious,  almost  angry,  tone,  "  What  is  your 
master's  name?" 

"  Of  all  questions,"  said  the  other,  with  a  prudent  air, 
"  this  is  the  one  which  I  am  least  prepared  to  answer.  I  hope 
the  letter  will  communicate  the  necessary  information :  ver- 
bally I  have  been  charged  with  nothing." 

"  Be  it  as  it  will,"  replied  Lothario  with  a  smile  :  "  since 
your  master  puts  such  trust  in  me  as  to  indite  a  letter  so  ex- 
ceedingly facetious,  he  shall  be  welcome  to  us." —  "  He  will 
not  keep  you  long  waiting  for  him,"  said  the  courier,  with  a 
bow,  and  withdrew. 

"Do  but  hear  the  distracted,  stupid  message,"  said  Lotha- 
rio. "  '  As  of  all  guests,  Good  Humor  is  believed  to  be  the 
most  agreeable  wherever  he  appears,  and  as  I  always  keep 
that  gentleman  beside  me  by  way  of  travelling  companion,  I 
feel  persuaded  that  the  visit  I  intend  to  pay  your  noble  lord- 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  53 

ship  will  not  be  taken  ill :  on  the  contrary,  I  hope  the  whole 
of  your  illustrious  family  will  witness  my  arrival  with  complete 
satisfaction,  and  in  due  time  also  my  departure  ;  being  always, 
et  ccetera,  Count  of  Snailfoot.' ' 

"  'Tis  a  new  family,"  said  the  abbe". 

"  A  vicariat  count,  perhaps,"  said  Jarno. 

"  The  secret  is  easy  to  unriddle,"  said  Natalia :  "  I  wager 
it  is  none  but  brother  Friedrich,  who  has  threatened  us  with 
a  visit  ever  since  my  uncle's  death." 

"Right,  fair  and  skilful  sister!"  cried  a  voice  from  the 
nearest  thicket ;  and  immediately  a  pleasant,  cheerful  3'outh 
stepped  forward.  Wilhelm  could  scarcely  restrain  a  cry  of 
wonder.  "What!"  exclaimed  he:  "does  our  fair-haired 
knave,  too,  meet  me  here  ?  "  Friedrich  looked  attentively,  and, 
recognizing  Wilhelm,  cried,  "  In  truth,  it  would  not  have  as- 
tonished me  so  much  to  have  beheld  the  famous  pyramids, 
which  still  stand  fast  in  Egypt,  or  the  grave  of  King  Mausolus, 
which,  as  I  am  told,  does  not  exist,  here  placed  before  me  in 
my  uncle's  garden,  as  to  find  you  in  it,  my  old  friend,  and 
frequent  benefactor.  Accept  my  best  and  heartiest  service  !  " 

After  he  had  kissed  and  complimented  the  whole  circle, 
he  again  sprang  towards  Wilhelm,  crying,  "  Use  him  well, 
this  hero,  this  leader  of  armies,  and  dramatical  philosopher ! 
When  we  became  acquainted  first,  I  dressed  his  hair  indiffer- 
ently, I  may  say  execrably  ;  yet  he  afterwards  saved  me  from 
a  pretty  load  of  blows.  He  is  magnanimous  as  Scipio,  mu- 
nificent as  Alexander :  at  times  he  is  in  love,  yet  he  never 
hates  his  rivals.  Far  from  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  the  heads 
of  his  enemies,  —  a  piece  of  service,  I  am  told,  which  we  can 
do  for  any  one,  —  he  rather,  when  his  friends  have  carried  off 
his  love,  despatches  good  and  trusty  servants  after  them, 
that  they  may  not  strike  their  feet  against  a  stone." 

In  the  same  style  he  ran  along  with  a  volubility  which  baf- 
fled all  attempts  to  restrain  it ;  and,  as  no  one  could  reply  to 
him  in  that  vein,  he  had  the  conversation  mostly  to  himself. 
"  Do  not  wonder,"  cried  he,  "  that  I  am  so  profoundly  versed 
in  sacred  and  profane  writers :  you  shall  hear  by  and  by  how 
I  attained  my  learning."  They  wished  to  know  how  matters 
stood  with  him,  —  where  he  had  been  ;  but  crowds  of  proverbs 
and  old  stones  choked  his  explanation. 

Natalia  whispered  to  Theresa,  "His  gayety  afflicts  me:  I 
am  sure  at  heart  he  is  not  merry." 

As,  except  a  few  jokes  which  Jarno  answered,  Friedrich's 
merriment  was  met  by  no  response  from  thooo  nhout  him.  he 


54  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

was  obliged  at  last  to  say,  "Well,  there  is  nothing  left  for 
me,  but,  among  so  many  grave  faces,  to  be  grave  myself. 
And  as,  in  such  a  solemn  scene,  the  burden  of  my  sins  falls 
heavy  on  my  soul,  I  must  honestly  resolve  upon  a  general 
confession  ;  for  which,  however,  you,  my  worthy  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  shall  not  be  a  jot  the  wiser.  This  honorable  friend 
already  knows  a  little  of  my  walk  and  conversation  ;  he  alone 
shall  know  the  rest ;  and  this  the  rather,  as  he  alone  has  any 
cause  to  ask  about  it.  Are  not  you,"  continued  he  to  Wil- 
helrn,  "curious  about  the  how  and  where,  the  when  and 
wherefore?  And  how  it  stands  with  the  conjugation  of  the 
Greek  verb  qptlio),  qpiXea,  and  the  derivatives  of  that  very  amia- 
ble part  of  speech  ? ' ' 

He  then  took  Wilhelm  by  the  arm,  and  led  him  off,  press- 
ing him  and  skipping  round  him  with  the  liveliest  air  of 
kindness. 

Scarcely  had  they  entered  Wilhelm' s  room,  when  Friedrich 
noticed,  in  the  window,  a  powder-knife,  with  the  inscription, 
"  Think  of  me."  "  You  keep  your  valuables  well  laid  up  !  " 
said  he.  "  This  is  the  powder-knife  Philina  gave  you,  when 
I  pulled  your  locks  for  you.  I  hope,  in  looking  at  it,  you 
have  diligently  thought  of  that  fair  damsel ;  I  assure  you, 
she  has  not  forgotten  you  :  if  I  had  not  long  ago  obliterated 
every  trace  of  jealousy  from  my  heart,  I  could  not  look  on 
you  without  envy." 

"  Talk  no  more  of  that  creature,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "  I 
confess  it  was  a  while  before  I  could  get  rid  of  the  impres- 
sion which  her  looks  and  manner  made  on  me,  but  that  was 
all." 

"  Fie,  Fie  !  "  cried  Friedrich.  "  Would  any  one  deny  his 
deary?  You  loved  her  as  completely  as  a  man  could  wish. 
No  day  passed  without  your  giving  her  some  present ;  and, 
when  a  German  gives,  you  may  be  sure  he  loves.  No  alter- 
native remained  for  me  but  whisking  her  away  from  you, 
aud  in  this  the  little  red  officer  at  last  succeeded." 

"What!  you  were  the  officer  whom  we  discovered  with 
her,  whom  she  travelled  off  with  ? ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Friedrich,  "whom  you  took  for  Mariana. 
We  had  sport  enough  at  the  mistake." 

"What  cruelty,"  cried  Wilhelm,  "to  leave  me  in  such 
suspense!" 

"  And,  besides,  to  take  the  courier,  whom  you  sent  to 
catch  us,  into  pay  !  "  said  Friedrich.  "  He  is  a  very  active 
fellow :  we  have  kept  him  by  us  ever  since.  And  the  girl 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  55 

herself  I  love  as  desperately  as  ever.  She  has  managed  me 
in  some  peculiar  style :  I  am  almost  in  a  mythologic  case ; 
every  day  I  tremble  at  the  thought  of  being  metamorphosed." 

"But  tell  me,  pray,"  said  Wilhelm,  "where  have  you 
acquired  this  stock  of  erudition  ?  It  surprises  me  to  hear  the 
strange  way  you  have  assumed  of  speaking  always  with  a 
reference  to  ancient  histories  and  fables." 

"  It  was  by  a  pleasant  plan,"  said  Friedrich,  "  that  I  got 
my  learning.  Philina  lives  with  me  at  present :  we  have  got 
a  lease  of  an  old,  knightly  castle  from  the  farmer  in  whose 
ground  it  is ;  and  there  we  live,  with  the  hobgoblins  of  the 
place,  as  merrily  as  possible.  In  one  of  the  rooms  we  found 
a  small,  but  choice,  library,  consisting  of  a  Bible  in  folio, 
'Gottfried's  Chronicle,'  two  volumes  of  the  'Theatrum 
Europaeum,'  an  '  Acerra  Philologica,'  '  Gryphius'  Writ- 
ings,' and  some  other  less  important  works.  As  we  now 
and  then,  when  tired  of  romping,  felt  the  time  hang  heavy 
on  our  hands,  we  proposed  to  read  some  books  ;  apd,  before 
we  were  aware,  the  time  hung  heavier  than  ever.  At  last 
Philina  hit  upon  the  royal  plan  of  laying  all  the  tomes,  opened 
at  once,  upon  a  large  table.  We  sat  down  opposite  to  one 
another :  we  read  to  one  another,  —  always  in  detached  pas- 
sages, first  from  this  book,  then  from  that.  We  had  a  jolly 
time  of  it.  We  felt  now  as  if  we  were  in  good  society,  where 
it  is  reckoned  unbecoming  to  dwell  on  any  subject,  or  search 
it  to  the  bottom :  we  thought  ourselves  in  witty,  gay  society, 
where  none  will  let  his  neighbor  speak.  We  regularly  treat 
ourselves  with  this  diversion  every  day,  and  the  erudition 
we  obtain  from  it  is  quite  surprising.  Already  there  is  noth- 
ing new  for  us  under  the  sun :  on  every  thing  we  see  or  hear, 
our  learning  offers  us  a  hint.  This  method  of  instruction  we 
diversify  in  many  ways.  Frequently  we  read  by  an  old,  spoiled 
sand-glass,  which  runs  in  a  minute  or  two.  The  moment  it 
is  down,  the  silent  party  turns  it  round  like  lightning,  and 
commences  reading  from  his  book  ;  and  no  sooner  is  it  down 
again,  than  the  other  cuts  him  short,  and  starts  the  former 
topic.  Thus  we  study  in  a  truly  academic  manner,  with  this 
difference,  that  our  hours  are  shorter,  and  our  studies  ex- 
tremely varied." 

"  This  rioting  is  quite  conceivable,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  when 
a  pair  like  you  two  are  together ;  but  how  a  pair  so  full  of 
frolic  stay  together  does  not  seem  so  easily  conceivable." 

"It  is  our  good  fortune,"  answered  Friedrich,  "  and  our 
bad.  Philiua  dare  not  let  herself  be  seen,  —  she  cannot  bear 


56  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  see  herself :  she  is  with  child.  Nothing  ever  was  so  ludi- 
crous and  shapeless  in  the  world.  A  little  while  before  I 
came  away,  she  chanced  to  cast  an  eye  upon  the  looking-glass 
in  passing.  '  Faugh  ! '  cried  she,  and  turned  away  her  face  : 
*  the  living  picture  of  the  Fran  Melina !  Shocking  figure  ! 
One  looks  entirely  deplorable  ! ' : 

"I  confess,"  said  Wilhelm,  with  a  smile,  "it  must  be 
rather  farcical  to  see  a  father  and  a  mother,  such  as  you  and 
she,  together." 

"  'Tis  a  foolish  business,"  answered  Friedrich,  "  that  I 
must  at  last  be  raised  to  the  paternal  dignity.  But  she 
asserts,  and  the  time  agrees.  At  first  that  cursed  visit  which 
she  paid  you  after  '  Hamlet '  gave  me  qualms." 

"What  visit?" 

"  I  suppose  you  have  not  quite  slept  off  the  memory  of  it 
yet?  The  pretty,  flesh-and-blood  spirit  of  that  night,  if  you 
do  not  know  it,  was  Philina.  The  story  was,  in  truth,  a  hard 
dower  for -me  ;  but,  if  we  cannot  be  content  with  such  things, 
we  should  not  be  in  love.  Fatherhood,  at  any  rate,  depends 
entirely  upon  conviction :  I  am  convinced,  and  so  I  am  a 
father.  There,  you  see,  I  can  employ  my  logic  in  the  proper 
season  too.  And,  if  the  brat  do  not  laugh  itself  to  death  so 
soon  as  it  is  born,  it  may  prove,  if  not  a  useful,  at  least  a 
pleasant,  citizen  of  this  world." 

Whilst  our  friends  were  talking  thus  of  mirthful  subjects, 
the  rest  of  the  party  had  begun  a  serious  conversation. 
Scarcely  were  Friedrich  and  Wilhelm  gone,  when  the  abbe" 
led  his  friends,  as  if  by  chance,  into  a  garden-house,  and, 
having  got  them  seated,  thus  addressed  them  :  — 

"  We  have  in  general  terms  asserted  that  Fraulein  Theresa 
was  not  the  daughter  of  her  reputed  mother :  it  is  fit  that  we 
should  now  explain  ourselves  on  this  matter,  in  detail.  I 
shall  relate  the  story  to  you,  which  I  undertake  to  prove  and 
to  elucidate  in  every  point. 

' '  Frau  von spent  the  first  years  of  her  wedlock  in 

the  utmost  concord  with  her  husband ;  but  they  had  this  mis- 
fortune, that  the  children  she  brought  him  came  into  the 
world  dead :  and,  on  occasion  of  the  third,  the  mother  was 
declared  by  the  physicians  to  be  on  the  verge  of  death,  and 
to  be  sure  of  death  if  she  should  ever  have  another.  The 
parties  were  obliged  to  take  their  resolution  :  they  would  not 
break  the  marriage ;  it  was  too  suitable  to  both,  in  a  civil 

point  of  view.  Frau  von sought  in  the  culture  of  her 

mind,  in  a  certain  habit  of  display,  in  the  joys  of  vanity,  a 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  57 

compensation  for  the  happiness  of  motherhood,  which  was 
refused  her.  She  cheerfully  indulged  her  husband,  when 
she  noticed  in  him  an  attachment  to  a  young  lady,  who  had 
sole  charge  of  their  household,  a  person  of  beautiful  exte- 
rior, and  very  solid  character.  Frau  von herself,  ere- 
long, assisted  in  procuring  an  arrangement,  by  which  the 
lady  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  Theresa's  father ;  continuing 
to  discharge  her  household  duties,  and  testifying  to  the  mis- 
tress of  the  family,  if  possible,  a  more  submissive  zeal  to 
serve  her  than  before. 

"  After  a  while  she  declared  herself  with  child ;  and  both 
the  father  and  his  wife,  on  this  occasion,  though  from  very 

different  causes,  fell  upon  the  same  idea.  Herr  von  

wished  to  have  the  offspring  of  his  mistress  educated  in  the 

house  as  his  lawful  child ;  and  Frau  von  ,  angry  that 

the  indiscretion  of  her  doctor  had  allowed  some  whisper  of 
her  condition  to  go  abroad,  proposed  by  a  supposititious 
child  to  counteract  this,  and  likewise  to  retain,  by  such  com- 
pliance, the  superiority  in  her  household,  which  otherwise 
she  was  like  to  lose.  However,  she  was  more  backward 
than  her  husband  :  she  observed  his  purpose,  and  contrived, 
without  any  formal  question,  to  facilitate  his  explanation. 
She  made  her  own  terms,  obtaining  almost  every  thing  that 
she  required ;  and  hence  the  will  in  which  so  little  care  was 
taken  of  the  child.  The  old  doctor  was  dead  :  they  applied 
to  a  young,  active,  and  discreet  successor;  he  was  well 
rewarded ;  he  looked  forward  to  the  credit  of  exposing  and 
remedying  the  .unskilfulness  and  premature  decision  of  his 
deceased  colleague.  The  true  mother  not  unwillingly  con- 
sented :  they  managed  the  deception  very  well ;  Theresa 
came  into  the  world,  and  was  surrendered  to  a  stepmother, 
while  her  mother  fell  a  victim  to  the  plot ;  having  died  by 
venturing  out  too  early,  and  left  the  father  inconsolable. 

"  Frau  von had  thus  attained  her  object ;  in  the  eyes 

of  the  world  she  had  a  lovely  child,  which  she  paraded  with 
excessive  vanity :  and  she  had  also  been  delivered  from  a 
rival  whose  fortune  she  envied,  and  whose  influence,  at  least 
in  prospect,  she  beheld  with  apprehension.  The  infant  she 
loaded  with  her  tenderness :  and  by  affecting,  in  trustful 
hours,  a  lively  feeling  for  her  husband's  loss,  she  gained  a 
mastery  of  his  heart ;  so  that  in  a  manner  he  surrendered  all 
to  her,  laid  his  own  happiness  and  that  of  his  child  in  her 
hands  :  nor  was  it  till  a  short  while  prior  to  his  death,  and, 
in  some  degree,  by  the  exertions  of  his  grown-up  daughter, 


58  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

that  he  again  assumed  the  rule  in  his  own  house.  This,  fair 
Theresa,  was  in  all  probability  the  secret  which  your  father, 
in  his  last  sickness,  so  struggled  to  communicate :  this  is 
what  I  wished  to  lay  circumstantially  before  you,  at  a  mo- 
ment when  our  young  friend,  who  by  a  strange  concurrence 
has  become  your  bridegroom,  happens  to  be  absent.  Here 
are  the  papers  which  will  prove  in  the  most  rigorous  manner 
eveiy  thing  that  I  have  stated.  You  will  also  see  from  them 
how  long  I  have  been  following  the  trace  of  this  discovery  ; 
though,  till  now,  I  could  never  attain  certainty  respecting  it. 
I  did  not  risk  imparting  to  my  friend  the  possibility  of  such  a 
happiness :  it  would  have  wounded  him  too  deeply  had  this 
hope  a  second  time  deceived  him.  You  will  understand  poor 
Lydia's  suspicions :  I  readily  confess,  I  nowise  favored  our 
friend's  attachment  to  her,  when  I  began  again  to  look  for- 
ward to  his  union  with  Theresa." 

To  this  recital  no  one  replied.  The  ladies,  some  days  after- 
wards, returned  the  papers,  not  making  any  further  mention 
of  them. 

There  were  other  matters  in  abundance  to  engage  the 
party  when  they  were  together ;  and  the  scenery  around  was 
so  delightful,  that  our  friends,  singly  or  in  company,  on 
horseback,  in  carriages,  or  on  foot,  delighted  to  explore  it. 
On  one  of  these  excursions,  Jarno  took  an  opportunity  of 
opening  the  affair  to  Wilhelm :  he  delivered  him  the  papers ; 
not,  however,  seeming  to  require  from  him  any  resolution  in 
regard  to  them. 

"  In  this  most  singular  position  in  which  I  am,"  said 
our  friend,  "  I  need  only  repeat  to  you  what  I  said  at  first, 
in  presence  of  Natalia,  and  with  the  clear  intention  to  fulfil 
it.  Lothario  and  his  friends  may  require  of  me  every  sort 
of  self-denial ;  I  here  abandon  in  their  favor  all  pretension 
to  Theresa :  do  you  procure  me  in  return  a  formal  discharge. 
There  requires  no  great  reflection  to  decide.  For  some  days 
I  have  noticed  that  Theresa  has  to  make  an  effort  in  retain- 
ing any  show  of  the  vivacity  with  which  she  welcomed  me  at 
first.  Her  affection  is  gone  from  me ;  or,  rather,  I  have 
never  had  it." 

"Such  affairs  are  more  conveniently  explained,"  said 
Jarno,  "  by  a  gradual  process,  in  silence  and  expectation, 
than  by  many  words,  which  always  cause  a  sort  of  fermen- 
tation and  embarrassment." 

"I  rather  think,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  precisely  this  af- 
fair admits  of  the  most  clear  and  calm  decision  on  the  spot. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  59 

I  have  often  been  reproached  with  hesitation  and  uncer- 
tainty :  why  will  you  now,  when  I  do  not  hesitate,  commit 
against  myself  the  fault  yon  have  often  blamed  in  me  ?  Do 
people  take  such  trouble  with  our  training  only  to  let  us  feel 
that  they  themselves  will  not  be  trained  ?  Yes  :  grant  me  soon 
the  cheerful  thought  that  I  am  out  of  a  mistaken  project, 
into  which  I  entered  with  the  purest  feelings  in  the  world." 

Notwithstanding  this  request,  some  days  elapsed  without 
his  hearing  any  more  of  the  affair,  or  observing  any  further 
alteration  in  his  friends.  The  conversation,  on  the  contrary, 
was  general,  and  of  indifferent  matters. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JARNO  and  Wilhelm  were  sitting  one  day  by  Natalia. 
"  You  are  thoughtful,  Jarno,"  said  the  lady:  "I  have  seen 
it  in  your  looks  for  some  time." 

"I  am  so,"  answered  Jarno:  "a  weighty  business  is  be- 
fore me,  which  we  have  for  years  been  meditating,  and 
must  now  begin  to  execute.  You  already  know  the  outline 
of  it :  I  may  speak  of  it  before  our  friend ;  for  it  will  de- 
pend on  himself  whether  he,  too,  shall  not  share  in  it.  You 
are  going  to  get  rid  of  me  before  long :  I  mean  to  take  a 
voyage  to  America." 

"To  America?"  said  Wilhelm,  smiling:  "such  an  ad- 
venture I  did  not  anticipate  from  you,  still  less  that  you 
would  hav«  selected  me  for  a  companion." 

"When  you  rightly  understand  our  plan,"  said  Jarno, 
"  you  will  give  it  a  more  honorable  name,  and,  perhaps,  your- 
self be  tempted  to  embark  in  it.  Listen  to  me.  It  requires 
but  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the  business  of  the  world  to 
see  that  mighty  changes  are  at  hand,  that  property  is  almost 
nowhere  quite  secure." 

"  Of  the  business  of  the  world  I  have  no  clear  notion," 
interrupted  Wilhelm ;  "  and  it  is  but  of  late  that  I  ever 
thought  about  my  property.  Perhaps  I  had  done  well  to 
drive  it  out  of  my  head  still  longer :  the  care  of  securing  it 
appears  to  give  us  hypochondria." 

"Hear  me  out,"  said  Jarno.  "Care  beseems  ripe  age, 
that  youth  may  live,  for  a  time,  free  from  care :  in  the  con- 


60  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

duct  of  poor  mortals,  equilibrium  cannot  be  restored  except 
by  contraries.  As  matters  go,  it  is  any  thing  but  prudent  to 
have  property  in  only  one  place,  to  commit  your  money  to  a 
single  spot ;  and  yet  it  is  difficult  to  guide  it  well  in  many. 
We  have,  therefore,  thought  of  something  else.  From  our 
old  tower  there  is  a  society  to  issue,  which  must  spread  it- 
self through  every  quarter  of  the  world,  and  to  which  mem- 
bers from  every  quarter  of  the  world  shall  be  admissible. 
We  shall  insure  a  competent  subsistence  to  each  other,  in  the 
single  case  of  a  revolution  happening,  which  might  drive  any 
part  of  us  entirely  from  their  possessions.  I  am  now  pro- 
ceeding to  America  to  profit  by  the  good  connections  which 
our  friend  established  while  he  staid  there.  The  abb6  means 
to  go  to  Russia :  if  you  like  to  join  us,  you  shall  have  the 
choice  of  continuing  in  Germany  to  help  Lothario,  or  of  ac- 
companying me.  I  conjecture  you  will  choose  the  latter : 
to  take  a  distant  journey  is  extremely  serviceable  to  a  young 
man." 

Wilhelm  thought  a  moment,  and  replied,  "The  offer  well 
deserves  consideration ;  for  erelong  the  word  with  me  must 
be,  The  farther  off,  the  better.  You  will  let  me  know  your 
plan,  I  hope,  more  perfectly.  It  is,  perhaps,  my  ignorance  of 
life  that  makes  me  think  so ;  but  such  a  combination  seems 
to  me  to  be  attended  with  insuperable  difficulties." 

"The  most  of  which,  till  now,  have  been  avoided,"  an- 
swered Jarno,  "  by  the  circumstance  that  we  have  been  but 
few  in  number,  honorable,  discreet,  determined  people,  ani- 
mated by  a  certain  general  feeling,  out  of  which  alone  the 
feeling  proper  for  societies  can  spring."  —  "And  if  you 
speak  me  fair,"  said  Friedrich,  who  hitherto  had  only  lis- 
tened, "I,  too,  will  go  along  with  you." 

Jar-no  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  what  objections  can  you  make?  "  cried  Friedrich. 
"  In  a  new  colony,  young  colonists  will  be  required ;  these  I 
bring  with  me :  merry  colonists  will  also  be  required ;  of 
these  I  make  you  certain.  Besides,  I  recollect  a  certain 
damsel,  who  is  out  of  place  on  this  side  of  the  water,  — the 
fair,  soft-hearted  Lydia.  What  is  the  poor  thing  to  do  with 
her  sorrow  and  mourning,  unless  she  get  an  opportunity  to 
throw  it  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  unless  some  brave  fellow 
take  her  by  the  hand?  You,  my  benefactor,"  said  he,  turn- 
ing towards  Wilhelm,  "  you  have  a  taste  for  comforting  for- 
saken persons  :  what  withholds  you  now  ?  Each  of  us  might 
take  his  girl  under  his  arm,  and  trudge  with  Jaruo." 


MEISTEll'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  61 

This  proposal  struck  Wilhelm  offensively.  He  answered 
with  affected  calmness,  "  I  know  not  whether  she  is  unen- 
gaged ;  and,  as  in  general  I  seem  to  be  unfortunate  in  court- 
ship, I  shall  hardly  think  of  making  the  attempt." 

"•Brother  Friedrich,"  said  Natalia,  "though  thy  own 
conduct  is  so  full  of  levity,  it  does  not  follow  that  such  sen- 
timents will  answer  others.  Our  friend  deserves  a  heart  that 
shall  belong  to  him  alone,  that  shall  not,  at  his  side,  be  moved 
by  recollections  of  some  previous  attachment.  It  was  only 
with  a  character  as  pure  and  reasonable  as  Theresa's  that 
such  a  venture  could  be  risked." 

"  Risk  !  "  cried  Friedrich  :  "  in  love  it  is  all  risk.  In  the 
grove  or  at  the  altar,  with  a  clasp  of  the  arms  or  a  golden 
ring,  by  the  chirping  of  the  cricket  or  the  sound  of  trumpets 
and  kettle-drums,  it  is  all  but  a  risk :  chance  does  it  all." 

"  I  have  often  noticed,"  said  Natalia,  "  that  our  principles 
are  just  a  supplement  to  our  peculiar  manner  of  existence. 
"We  delight  to  clothe  our  errors  in  the  garb  of  universal  laws, 
to  attribute  them  to  irresistibly  appointed  causes.  Do  but 
think  by  what  a  path  thy  dear  will  lead  thee,  now  that  she 
has  drawn  thee  towards  her,  and  holds  thee  fast  there." 

"  She  herself  is  on  a  very  pretty  path,"  said  Friedrich,  — 
"  on  the  path  to  saintship.  A  by-path,  it  is  true,  and  some- 
what roundabout,  but  the  pleasanter  and  surer  for  that.  Maria 
of  Magdala  travelled  it,  and  who  can  say  how  many  more  ? 
But,  on  the  whole,  sister,  when  the  point  in  hand  is  love, 
thou  shouldst  not  mingle  in  it.  In  m}-  opinion,  thou  wilt 
never  many,  till  a  bride  is  lacking  somewhere  :  in  that  case, 
thou  wilt  give  thyself,  with  thy  habitual  charity,  to  be  the  sup- 
plement of  some  peculiar  manner  of  existence,  not  other- 
wise. 80  let  us  strike  a  bargain  with  this  soul-broker,  and 
agree  about  our  travelling-company." 

"  You  come  too  late  with  your  proposals,"  answered  Jarno  : 
"  Lydia  is  disposed  of." 

"•  And  how?  "  cried  Friedrich. 

"  I  myself  have  offered  her  my  hand,"  said  Jarno. 

"  Old  gentleman,"  said  Friedrich,  "you  have  done  a  feat 
to  which,  if  we  regard  it  as  a  substantive,  various  adjectives 
might  be  appended ;  various  predicates,  if  we  regard  it  as  a 
subject." 

"  I  must  honestly  confess,"  replied  Natalia,  "it  appears 
a  dangerous  experiment  to  make  a  helpmate  of  a  woman,  at 
the  very  moment  when  her  love  for  another  man  is  like  to 
drive  her  to  despair." 


62  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  I  have  ventured,"  answered  Jarno:  "under  a  certain 
stipulation  she  is  to  be  mine.  And,  believe  me,  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  more  precious  than  a  heart  susceptible 
of  love  and  passion.  Whether  it  has  loved,  whether  it  still 
loves,  are  points  which  I  regard  not.  The  love  of  which 
another  is  the  object  charms  me  almost  more  than  that 
which  is  directed  to  myself.  I  see  the  strength,  the  force,  of 
a  tender  soul ;  and  my  self-love  does  not  trouble  the  delightful 
vision." 

"  Have  you,  then,  talked  with  Lydia  of  late?"  inquired 
Natalia. 

Jarno  smiled  and  nodded :  Natalia  shook  her  head,  and 
said  as  he  rose,  "  I  really  know  not  what  to  make  of  you ; 
but  me  you  shall  not  mystify,  I  promise  you." 

She  was  about  retiring,  when  the  abbe  entered  with  a  letter 
in  his  hand.  "Stay,  if  you  please,"  said  he  to  her:  "I 
have  a  proposal  here,  respecting  which  your  counsel  will  be 
welcome.  The  marchese,  your  late  uncle's  friend,  whom  for 
some  time  we  have  been  expecting,  will  be  here  in  a  day  or 
two.  He  writes  to  me,  that  German  is  not  so  familiar  to  him 
as  he  had  supposed ;  that  he  needs  a  pei'son  who  possesses 
this  and  other  languages,  to  travel  with  him  ;  that,  as  he 
wishes  to  connect  himself  with  scientific  rather  than  political 
society,  he  cannot  do  without  some  such  interpreter.  I  can 
think  of  no  one  better  suited  for  the  post  than  our  }'oung  friend 
here.  He  knows  the  language,  is  acquainted  with  many 
things  beside  ;  and,  for  himself,  it  cannot  but  be  advantageous 
to  travel  over  Germany  in  such  society  and  such  circum- 
stances. Till  we  have  seen  our  native  country,  we  have  no 
scale  to  judge  of  other  countries  by.  What  say  you,  my 
friend?  What  say  you,  Natalia?  " 

Nobody  objected  to  the  scheme :  Jarno  seemed  to  think 
his  transatlantic  project  would  not  be  a  hinderance,  as  he 
did  not  mean  to  sail  directly.  Natalia  did  not  speak,  and 
Friedrich  uttered  various  saws  about  the  uses  of  travel. 

This  new  project  so  provoked  our  friend,  that  he  could 
hardly  conceal  his  irritation.  He  saw  in  this  proposal  a 
concerted  plan  for  getting  rid"  of  him  as  soon  as  possible ; 
and,  what  was  worse,  they  went  so  openly  to  work,  and 
seemed  so  utterly  regardless  of  his  feelings.  The  suspicions 
Lydia  had  excited  in  him,  all  that  he  himself  had  witnessed, 
rose  again  upon  his  mind :  the  simple  manner  in  which  every 
thing  had  been  explained  by  Jaruo  now  appeared  to  him 
another  piece  of  artifice. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  63 

He  constrained  himself,  and  answered,  "  At  all  events,  the 
offer  will  require  mature  deliberation." 

"A  quick  decision  may,  perhaps,  be  necessary,"  said  the 
abbe. 

"  For  that  I  am  not  prepared,"  answered  Wilhelm.  "We 
can  wait  till  the  marchese  comes,  and  then  observe  if  we 
agree  together.  One  condition  must,  however,  be  conceded 
first  of  all,  —  that  I  take  Felix  with  me." 

"  This  is  a  condition,"  said  the  abbe\  "  which  will  scarcely 
be  conceded." 

"And  I  do  not  see,"  cried  "Wilhelm,  "  why  I  should  let 
any  man  prescribe  conditions  to  me,  or  why,  if  I  choose  to 
view  my  native  country,  I  must  go  in  company  with  an 
Italian." 

"Because  a  young  man,"  said  the  abbe",  with  a  certain 
imposing  earnestness,  "  is  always  called  upon  to  form  con- 
nections." 

Wilhelm,  feeling  that  he  could  not  long  retain  his  self- 
command,  as  it  was  Natalia's  presence  only  which,  in  some 
degree,  assuaged  his  indignation,  hastily  made  answer, 
"  Give  me  a  little  while  to  think.  I  imagine  it  will  not  be 
very  hard  to  settle  whether  I  am  called  upon  to  form  addi- 
tional connections  ;  or  ordered  irresistibly,  by  heart  and  head, 
to  free  myself  from  such  a  multiplicity  of  bonds,  which  seem 
to  threaten  me  with  a  perpetual,  miserable  thraldom." 

Thus  he  spoke,  with  a  deeply  agitated  mind.  A  glance  at 
Natalia  somewhat  calmed  him  :  her  form  and  dignity,  in  this 
impassioned  moment,  stamped  themselves  more  deeply  on 
his  mind  than  ever. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  so  soon  as  he  was  by  himself,  "  confess 
it,  thou  lovest  her :  thou  once  more  feelest  what  it  means  to 
love  with  thy  whole  soul.  Thus  did  I  love  Mariana,  and 
deceive  myself  so  dreadfully ;  I  loved  Philina,  and  could  not 
help  despising  her ;  Aurelia  I  respected,  and  could  not  love  ; 
Theresa  I  reverenced,  and  paternal  tenderness  assumed  the 
form  of  an  affection  for  her.  And  now,  when  all  the  feel- 
ings that  can  make  a  mortal  happy  meet  within  my  heart, 
now  am  I  compelled  to  flee  !  Ah  !  why  should  these  feelings 
and  convictions  be  combined  with  an  insuperable  longing? 
Why,  without  the  hope  of  its  fulfilment,  should  they  utterly 
subvert  all  other  happiness?  Shall  the  sun  and  the  world, 
society  or  any  other  gift  of  fortune,  ever  henceforth  yield 
me  pleasure  ?  Wilt  thou  not  forever  say,  Natalia  is  not  here  ? 
And  yet,  alas  !  Natalia  will  be  always  present  to  thee !  If 


64  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

thou  closest  thy  eyes,  she  will  appear  to  thee  :  if  thou  openest 
them,  her  form  will  flit  before  all  outward  things,  like  the 
image  which  a  dazzling  object  leaves  behind  it  in  the  eye. 
Did  not  the  swiftly  passing  figure  of  the  Amazon  dwell  con- 
tinually in  thy  imagination  ?  And  yet  thou  hadst  but  seen 
her,  thou  didst  not  know  her.  Now  when  thou  knowest  her, 
when  thou  hast  been  so  long  beside  her,  when  she  has  shown 
such  care  about  thee,  —  now  are  her  qualities  impressed  as 
deeply  upon  thy  soul  as  her  form  was  then  upon  thy  fancy. 
It  is  painful  to  be  always  seeking,  but  far  more  painful  to 
have  found,  and  to  be  forced  to  leave.  What  now  shall  I 
ask  for  further  in  the  world?  What  now  shall  I  look  for 
further?  Is  there  a  country,  a  city,  that  contains  a  treasure 
such  as  this  ?  And  I  must  travel  on,  and  ever  find  inferiority  ? 
Is  life,  then,  like  a  race-course,  where  a  man  must  rapidly 
return  when  he  has  reached  the  utmost  end  ?  Does  the  good, 
the  excellent,  stand  before  us  like  a  firm,  unmoving  goal,  from 
which,  with  fleet  horses,  we  are  forced  away  the  instant  we 
appeared  to  have  attained  it?  Happier  are  they  who  strive 
for  earthly  wares !  They  find  what  they  are  seeking  in  its 
proper  climate,  or  they  buy  it  in  the  fair. 

"  Come,  my  darling  boy  !  "  cried  he  to  Felix,  who  now  ran 
frisking  towards  him  :  "be  thou  and  remain  thou  all  to  me  ! 
Thou  wert  given  me  as  a  compensation  for  thy  loved  mother ; 
thou  wert  to  replace  the  second  mother  whom  I  meant  for 
thee  ;  and  now  thou  hast  a  loss  still  greater  to  make  good. 
Occupy  my  heart,  occupy  my  spirit,  with  thy  beauty,  thy 
loveliness,  thy  capabilities,  and  thy  desire  to  use  them!  " 

The  boy  was  busied  with  a  new  plaything  :  his  father  tried 
to  put  it  in  a  better  state  for  him  ;  just  as  he  succeeded,  Felix 
had  lost  all  pleasure  in  it.  "Thou  art  a  true  son  of  Adam  !  " 
cried Wilhelm.  "  Come,  my  child  !  Come,  my  brother!  let 
us  wander,  playing  without  object,  through  the  world,  as  we 
best  may." 

His  resolution  to  remove,  to  take  the  boy  along  with  him, 
and  recreate  his  mind  by  looking  at  the  world,  had  now 
assumed  a  settled  form.  He  wrote  to  Werner  for  the  neces- 
sary cash  and  letters  of  credit ;  sending  Friedrich's  courier 
on  the  message,  with  the  strictest  charges  to  return  immedi- 
ately. Much  as  the  conduct  of  his  other  friends  had  grieved 
him,  his  relation  to  Natalia  remained  serene  and  clear  as  ever. 

He  confided  to  her  his  intention.  She  took  it  as  a  settled 
thing  that  he  would  go  ;  and,  if  this  seeming  carelessness  in 
her  chagrined  him,  her  kindly  manner  and  her  presence  made 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  65 

him  calm.  She  counselled  him  to  visit  various  towns,  that 
he  might  get  acquainted  with  certain  of  her  friends.  The 
courier  returned,  and  brought  the  letter  which  our  friend  re- 
quired ;  though  Werner  did  not  seem  content  with  this  new 
whim.  "  My  hope  that  thou  wert  growing  reasonable,"  so 
the  letter  ran,  ki  is  now  again  deferred.  Where  are  you  all 
gadding?  And  where  lingers  the  lady  who  thou  saidst  was 
to  assist  us  in  arranging  these  affairs  ?  Thy  other  friends  are 
also  absent.  They  have  thrown  the  whole  concern  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  lawyer  and  myself.  Happy  that  he  is  as 
expert  a  jurist  as  I  am  a  financier,  and  that  both  of  us  are 
used  to  business.  Fare  thee  well !  Thy  aberrations  shall  be 
pardoned  thee,  since  but  for  them  our  situation  here  could 
not  have  been  so  favorable." 

So  far  as  outward  matters  were  concerned,  Wilhelm  might 
now  have  entered  on  his  journey  ;  but  there  were  still  for  his 
heart  two  hinderauces  that  held  him  fast.  In  the  first  place, 
they  flatly  refused  to  show  him  Mignon's  body  till  the  funeral 
the  abb6  meant  to  celebrate ;  and,  for  this  solemnit3r,  the 
preparations  were  not  read}'.  There  had  also  been  a  curious 
letter  from  the  country  clergyman,  in  consequence  of  which 
the  doctor  had  gone  off.  It  related  to  the  harper,  of  whose 
fate  Wilhelm  wanted  to  have  further  information. 

In  these  circumstances,  day  or  night  he  found  no  rest  for 
mind  or  body.  When  all  were  asleep,  he  wandered  up  and 
down  the  house.  The  presence  of  the  pictures  and  statues, 
which  he  knew  so  well  of  old,  alternately  attracted  and  re- 
pelled him.  Nothing  that  surrounded  him  could  he  lay  hold 
of  or  let  go  ;  all  things  reminded  him  of  all :  the  whole  ring 
of  his  existence  lay  before  him ;  but  it  was  broken  into  frag- 
ments, and  seemed  as  if  it  would  never  unite  again.  These 
works  of  art,  which  his  father  had  sold,  appeared  to  him  an 
omen  that  he  himself  was  destined  never  to  obtain  a  lasting, 
calm  possession  of  any  thing  desirable  in  life,  or  always  to 
be  robbed  of  it  so  soon  as  gained,  by  his  own  or  other  peo- 
ple's blame.  He  waded  so  deep  in  these  strange  and  dreary 
meditations,  that  often  he  almost  thought  himself  a  disem- 
bodied spirit ;  and,  even  when  he  felt  and  handled  things 
without  him,  he  could  scarcely  keep  himself  from  doubting 
whether  he  was  really  there  and  alive. 

Nothing  but  the  piercing  grief  which  often  seized  him, 
but  the  tears  he  shed  at  being  forced,  by  causes  frivolous  as 
they  were  irresistible,  to  leave  the  good  which  he  had  found, 
and  found  after  having  lost  it,  restored  him  to  the  feeling  of 


66  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

his  earthly  life.  It  was  in  vain  to  call  before  his  mind  his 
happy  state  in  other  respects.  "  All  is  nothing,  then,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "  if  the  one  blessing,  which  appears  to  us  worth 
all  the  rest,  is  wanting !  " 

The  abbe"  told  the  company  that  the  marchese  was  arrived. 
"You  have  determined,  it  appears,"  said  he  to  Wilhelm, 
"  to  set  out  upon  your  travels  with  your  boy  alone.  Get 
acquainted  with  this  nobleman,  however :  he  will  be  useful 
to  you  if  you  meet  him  by  the  way."  The  marchese  en- 
tered. He  was  a  person  not  yet  very  far  advanced  in  years, 
—  a  fine,  handsome,  pleasing,  Lombard  figure.  In  his  youth, 
while  in  the  army  and  afterwards  in  public  business,  he  had 
known  Lothario's  uncle ;  they  had  subsequently  travelled 
through  the  greater  part  of  Italy  together  :  and  many  of  the 
works  of  art,  which  the  marchese  now  again  fell  in  with,  had 
been  purchased  in  his  presence,  and  under  various  happy 
circumstances,  which  he  still  distinctly  recollected. 

The  Italians  have  in  general  a  deeper  feeling  for  the  high 
dignity  of  art  than  any  other  nation.  In  Italy,  whoever  fol- 
lows the  employment  tries  to  pass  at  once  for  artist,  master, 
and  professor ;  by  which  pretensions  he  acknowledges  at 
least  that  it  is  not  sufficient  merely  to  lay  hold  of  some  trans- 
mitted excellency,  or  to  acquire  by  practice  some  dexterit}', 
but  that  a  man  who  aims  at  art  should  have  the  power  to 
think  of  what  he  does,  to  lay  down  principles,  arid  make  appar- 
ent to  himself  and  others  how  and  wherefore  he  proceeds  in 
this  way  or  in  that. 

The  stranger  was  affected  at  again  beholding  these  produc- 
tions when  the  owner  of  them  was  no  more,  and  cheered  to 
see  the  spirit  of  his  friend  surviving  in  the  gifted  persons  left 
behind  him.  They  discussed  a  series  of  works :  they  found 
a  lively  satisfaction  in  the  harmony  of  their  ideas.  The  mar- 
chese and  the  abbe  were  the  speakers  ;  Natalia  felt  herself 
again  transported  to  the  presence  of  her  uncle,  and  could 
enter  without  difficulty  into  their  opinions  and  criticisms ; 
Wilhelm  could  not  understand  them,  except  as  he  translated 
their  technology  into  dramatic  language.  Friedrich's  face- 
tious vein  was  sometimes  rather  difficult  to  keep  hi  check. 
Jarno  was  seldom  there. 

It  being  observed  that  excellent  works  of  art  were  very 
rare  in  latter  times,  it  was  remarked  by  the  marchese,  "We 
can  hardly  think  or  estimate  how  many  circumstances  must 
combine  in  favor  of  the  artist :  with  the  greatest  genius,  with 
the  most  decisive  talent,  the  demands  which  he  must  make 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  67 

upon  himself  are  infinite,  the  diligence  required  in  cultivating 
his  endowments  is  unspeakable.  Now,  if  circumstances  are 
not  in  his  favor,  if  he  observe  that  the  world  is  very  easy  to 
be  satisfied,  requiring  but  a  slight,  pleasing,  transitory  show, 
it  were  matter  of  surprise  if  indolence  and  selfishness  did  not 
keep  him  fixed  at  mediocrity :  it  were  strange  if  he  did  not 
rather  think  of  bartering  modish  wares  for  gold  and  praises 
than  of  entering  on  the  proper  path,  which  could  not  fail  in 
some  degree  to  lead  him  to  a  sort  of  painful  martyrdom. 
Accordingly,  the  artists  of  our  time  are  always  offering  and 
never  giving.  They  always  aim  at  charming,  and  they  never 
satisfy :  every  thing  is  merely  indicated ;  you  can  nowhere 
find  foundation  or  completion.  Those  for  whom  they  labor, 
it  is  true,  are  little  better.  If  you  wait  a  while  in  any  gallery 
of  pictures,  and  observe  what  works  attract  the  many,  what 
are  praised  and  what  neglected,  you  have  little  pleasure  in 
the  present,  little  hope  in  the  future." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  abbe  :  "and  thus  it  is  that  artists  and 
their  judges  mutually  form  each  other.  The  latter  ask  for 
nothing  but  a  general,  vague  enjoyment ;  a  work  of  art  is  to 
delight  them  almost  as  a  work  of  nature  ;  they  imagine  that 
the  organs  for  enjoying  works  of  art  may  be  cultivated  alto- 
gether of  themselves,  like  the  tongue  and  the  palate  ;  they  try 
a  picture  or  a  poem  as  they  do  an  article  of  food.  They  do 
not  understand  how  very  different  a  species  of  culture  it  re- 
quires to  raise  one  to  the  true  enjoyment  of  art.  The  hardest 
part  of  it,  in  my  opinion,  is  that  sort  of  separation  which  a 
man  that  aims  at  perfect  culture  must  accomplish  in  himself. 
It  is  on  this  account  that  we  observe  so  many  people  partially 
cultivated,  and  }-et  every  one  of  them  attempting  to  pro- 
nounce upon  the  general  whole." 

"  Your  last  remark  is  not  quite  clear  to  me,"  said  Jarno, 
who  came  in  just  then. 

"  It  would  be  difficult,"  replied  the  abb6,  "  to  explain  it 
fully  without  a  long  detail.  Thus  much  I  may  say :  When 
any  man  pretends  to  mix  in  manifold  activity  or  manifold 
enjoyment,  he  must  also  be  enabled,  as  it  were,  to  make  his 
organs  manifold,  and  independent  of  each  other.  Whoever 
aims  at  doing  or  enjoying  all  and  every  thing  with  his  entire 
nature,  whoever  tries  to  link  together  all  that  is  without  him 
by  such  a  species  of  enjoyment,  will  only  lose  his  time  in 
efforts  that  can  never  be  successful.  How  difficult,  though 
it  seems  so  easy,  is  it  to  contemplate  a  noble  disposition,  a 
fine  picture,  simply  in  and  for  itself ;  to  watch  the  music  for 


68  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

the  music's  sake ;  to  admire  the  actor  in  the  actor ;  to  take 
pleasure  in  a  building  for  its  own  peculiar  harmony  and 
durability.  Most  men  are  wont  to  treat  a  work  of  art, 
though  fixed  and  done,  as  if  it  were  a  piece  of  soft  clay. 
The  hard  and  polished  marble  is  again  to  mould  itself,  the 
firm-walled  edifice  is  to  contract  or  to  expand  itself,  accord- 
ing as  their  inclinations,  sentiments,  and  whims  may  dictate  : 
the  picture  is  to  be  instructive,  the  pla}7  to  make  us  better,  — 
every  thing  is  to  do  all.  The  reason  is,  that  most  men  are 
themselves  uninformed,  they  cannot  give  themselves  and  their 
being  any  certain  shape ;  and  thus  they  strive  to  take  from 
other  things  their  proper  shape,  that  all  they  have  to  do  with 
may  be  loose  and  wavering  like  themselves.  Every  thing  is, 
in  the  long-run,  reduced  by  them  to  what  they  call  effect : 
every  thing  is  relative,  say  they ;  and  so,  indeed,  it  is :  every 
thing  with  them  grows  relative,  except  absurdity  and  plati- 
tude, which  truly  are  absolute  enough." 

"  I  understand  you,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "or,  rather,  I  per- 
ceive how  what  you  have  been  saying  follows  from  the  prin- 
ciples you  hold  so  fast  by.  Yet  with  men,  poor  devils,  we 
should  not  go  to  quest  so  strictly.  I  know  enow  of  them 
in  truth,  who,  beside  the  greatest  works  of  art  and  nature, 
forthwith  recollect  their  own  most  paltry  insufficiency  ;  who 
take  their  conscience  and  their  morals  with  them  to  the  opera ; 
who  bethink  them  of  their  loves  and  hatreds  in  contemplat- 
ing a  colonnade.  The  best  and  greatest  that  can  be  presented 
to  them  from  without,  they  must  first,  as  far  as  possible, 
diminish  in  their  way  of  representing  it,  that  the}-  may  in 
any  measure  be  enabled  to  combine  it  with  their  own  sorry 
nature." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  abb6  called  them  in  the  evening  to  attend  the  exequies 
of  Mignon.  The  company  proceeded  to  the  Hall  of  the 
Past :  they  found  it  magnificently  ornamented  and  illuminated. 
The  walls  were  hung  with  azure  tapestry  almost  from  ceiling 
to  floor,  so  that  nothing  but  the  friezes  and  socles,  above  and 
below,  were  visible.  On  the  four  candelabras  in  the  corner 
large  wax-lights  were  burning:  smaller  lights  were  in  the 
four  smaller  candelabras  placed  by  the  sarcophagus  hi  the 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  69 

middle.  Near  this  stood  four  bo3Ts,  dressed  in  azure  with 
silver :  they  had  broad  fans  of  ostrich-feathers,  which  they 
waved  above  a  figure  that  was  resting  upon  the  sarcophagus. 
The  company  sat  down :  two  invisible  choruses  began  in  a 
soft,  musical  recitative  to  ask,  "  Whom  bring  ye  us  to  the 
still  dwelling  ?"  The  four  boys  replied  with  lovely  voices, 
"  'Tis  a  tired  playmate  whom  we  bring  you  :  let  her  rest  in 
your  still  dwelling,  till  the  songs  of  her  heavenly  sisters  once 
more  awaken  her." 

CHORUS. 

"  Firstling  of  youth  in  our  circle,  we  welcome  thee  !  With 
sadness  welcome  thee !  May  no  boy,  no  maiden,  follow ! 
Let  age  only,  willing  and  composed,  approach  the  silent  hall, 
and  in  the  solemn  company,  repose  this  one  dear  child ! 

BOYS. 

Ah,  reluctantly  we  brought  her  hither !  Ah,  and  she  is  to 
remain  here  !  Let  us,  too,  remain :  let  us  weep,  let  us  weep 
upon  her  bier ! 

CHORUS. 

Yet  look  at  the  strong  wings  ;  look  at  the  light,  clear  robe. 
How  glitters  the  golden  band  upon  her  head !  Look  at  the 
beautiful,  the  noble,  repose. 

BOYS. 

Ah !  the  wings  do  not  raise  her ;  in  the  frolic  game,  her 
robe  flutters  to  and  fro  no  more ;  when  we  bound  her  head 
with  roses,  her  looks  on  us  were  kind  and  friendly. 

CHORUS. 

Cast  forward  the  eye  of  the  spirit.  Awake  in  your  souls 
the  imaginative  power,  which  carries  forth  what  is  fairest, 
what  is  highest,  life,  away  beyond  the  stars. 

BOYS. 

But,  ah !  We  find  her  not  here  ;  in  the  garden  she  wan- 
ders not ;  the  flowers  of  the  meadow  she  plucks  no  longer. 
Let  us  weep,  we  are  leaving  her  here !  Let  us  weep,  and 
remain  with  her ! 

CHORUS. 

Children,  turn  back  into  life  !     Your  tears  let  the  fresh  air 


70  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

dry,  which  plays  upon  the  rushing  water.     Flee  from  Night ! 
Day  and  Pleasure  and  Continuance  are  the  lot  of  the  living. 

BOYS. 

Up  !  Turn  back  into  life  !  Let  the  clay  give  us  labor  and 
pleasure,  till  the  evening  brings  us  rest,  and  the  nightly  sleep 
refreshes  us. 

CHORUS. 

Children !  Hasten  into  life !  In  the  pure  garments  of 
beauty,  may  Love  meet  you  with  heavenly  looks  and  with 
the  wreath  of  immortality  !  " 

The  boys  had  retired :  the  abbe"  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
went  behind  the  bier.  "It  is  the  appointment,"  said  he, 
"  of  the  man  who  prepared  this  silent  abode,  that  each  new 
tenant  of  it  shall  be  introduced  with  a  solemnity.  After 
him,  the  builder  of  this  mansion,  the  founder  of  this  estab- 
lishment, we  have  next  brought  a  young  stranger  hither; 
and  thus  already  does  this  little  space  contain  two  alto- 
gether different  victims  of  the  rigorous,  arbitrary,  and  in- 
exorable Death-goddess.  By  appointed  laws  we  enter  into 
life :  the  days  are  numbered  which  make  us  ripe  to  see  the 
light,  but  for  the  duration  of  our  life  there  is  no  law.  The 
weakest  thread  will  spin  itself  to  unexpected  length ;  and 
the  strongest  is  cut  suddenly  asunder  by  the  scissors  of  the 
Fates,  delighting,  as  it  seems,  in  contradictions.  Of  the 
child  whom  we  have  here  committed  to  her  final  rest,  we 
can  say  but  little.  It  is  still  uncertain  whence  she  came ; 
her  parents  we  know  not ;  the  years  of  her  life  we  can  only 
conjecture.  Her  deep  and  closely  shrouded  soul  allowed 
us  scarce  to  guess  at  its  interior  movements :  there  was 
nothing  clear  in  her,  nothing  open  but  her  affection  for  the 
man  who  had  snatched  her  from  the  hands  of  a  barbarian. 
This  impassioned  tenderness,  this  vivid  gratitude,  appeared 
to  be  the  flame  which  consumed  the  oil  of  her  life  r  the 
skill  of  the  physician  could  not  save  that  fair  life,  the  most 
anxious  friendship  could  not  lengthen  it.  But,  if  art  could 
not  stay  the  departing  spirit,  it  has  done  its  utmost  to 
preserve  the  body,  and  withdraw  it  from  decay.  A  balsamic 
substance  has  been  forced  through  all  the  veins,  and  now 
tinges,  in  place  of  blood,  these  cheeks  too  early  faded. 
Come  near,  my  friends,  and  view  this  wonder  of  art  and 
care !  " 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  71 

He  raised  the  veil :  the  child  was  lying  in  her  angel's  dress, 
as  if  asleep,  in  the  most  soft  and  graceful  posture.  They 
approached,  and  admired  this  show  of  life.  Wilhelm  alone 
continued  sitting  in  his  place ;  he  was  not  able  to  compose 
himself :  what  he  felt  he  durst  not  think,  and  every  thought 
seemed  ready  to  destroy  his  feeling. 

For  the  sake  of  the  marchese,  the  speech  had  been  pro- 
uounced  in  French.  That  nobleman  came  forward  with  the 
rest,  and  viewed  the  figure  with  attention.  The  abbe"  thus 
proceeded.  "  With  a  holy  confidence,  this  kind  heart,  shut 
up  to  men,  was  continually  turned  to  its  God.  Humility, 
nay,  an  inclination  to  abase  herself  externally,  seemed 
natural  to  her.  She  clave  with  zeal  to  the  Catholic  religion, 
in  which  she  had  been  born  and  educated.  Often  she  ex- 
pressed a  still  wish  to  sleep  on  consecrated  ground ;  and, 
according  to  the  usage  of  the  Church,  we  have,  therefore, 
consecrated  this  marble  coffin,  and  the  little  earth  which  is 
hidden  in  the  cushion  that  supports  her  head.  With  what 
ardor  did  she,  in  her  last  moments,  kiss  the  image  of  the 
Crucified,  which  stood  beautifully  figured  on  her  tender  arm, 
with  many  hundred  points  !  "  So  saying,  he  stripped  up  her 
right  sleeve  ;  and  a  crucifix,  with  marks  and  letters  round  it, 
showed  itself  in  blue  upon  the  white  skin. 

The  marchese  looked  at  this  with  eagerness,  stooping 
down  to  view  it  more  intensely.  "O  God!"  cried  he,  as 
he  stood  upright,  and  raised  his  hands  to  heaven.  "  Poor 
child !  Unhappy  niece !  Do  I  meet  thee  here  ?  What  a 
painful  joy  to  find  thee,  whom  we  had  long  lost  hope  of  ;  to 
find  this  dear  frame,  which  we  had  long  believed  the  prey  of 
fishes  in  the  ocean,  here  preserved,  though  lifeless  !  I  assist 
at  thy  funeral,  splendid  in  its  external  circumstances,  still 
more  splendid  from  the  noble  persons  who  attend  thee  to  thy 
place  of  rest.  And  to  these,"  added  he,  with  a  faltering 
voice,  l'  so  soon  as  I  can  speak,  I  will  express  my  thanks." 

Tears  hindered  him  from  saying  more.  By  the  pressure 
of  a  spring,  the  abb<§  sank  the  body  into  the  cavity  of  the 
marble.  Four  youths,  dressed  as  the  boys  had  been,  came 
out  from  behind  the  tapestry,  and  lifting  the  heavy,  beauti- 
fully ornamented  lid  upon  the  coffin,  thus  began  their  song, 

THE   YOUTHS. 

"  Well  is  the  treasure  now  laid  up,  — the  fair  image  of  the 
Past!  Here  sleeps  it  in  the  marble,  undecaying:  in  your 


72  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

hearts,  too,  it  lives,  it  works.  Travel,  travel  back  into  life ! 
Take  along  with  you  this  holy  earnestness,  for  earnestness 
alone  makes  life  eternity." 

The  invisible  chorus  joined  in  with  the  last  words,  but  no 
one  heard  the  strengthening  sentiment :  all  were  too  much 
busied  with  themselves,  and  the  emotions  which  these  won- 
derful disclosures  had  excited.  The  abbe"  and  Natalia  con- 
ducted the  marchese  out :  Theresa  and  Lothario  walked  by 
Wilhelm.  It  was  not  till  the  music  had  altogether  died 
away,  that  their  sorrows,  thoughts,  meditations,  curiosity, 
again  fell  on  them  with  all  their  force,  and  made  them  long 
to  be  transported  back  into  that  exalting  scene. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  marchese  avoided  speaking  of  the  matter,  but  had 
long,  secret  conversations  with  the  abbe.  When  the  com- 
pany was  met,  he  often  asked  for  music,  —  a  request  to 
which  they  willingly  assented,  as  each  was  glad  to  be  delivered 
from  the  charge  of  talking.  Thus  they  lived  for  some  time, 
till  it  was  observed  that  he  was  making  preparations  for 
departure.  One  day  he  said  to  Wilhelm,  "I  wish  not  to 
disturb  the  remains  of  this  beloved  child  ;  let  her  rest  in  the 
place  where  she  loved  and  suffered :  but  her  friends  must 
promise  to  visit  me  in  her  native  country,  in  the  scene  where 
she  was  born  and  bred ;  they  must  see  the  pillars  and  statues, 
of  which  a  dim  idea  remained  with  her.  I  will  lead  you  to 
the  bays  where  she  liked  so  well  to  roam,  and  gather  pebbles. 
You,  at  least,  young  friend,  shall  not  escape  the  gratitude  of 
a  family  that  stands  so  deeply  indebted  to  you.  To-morrow 
I  set  out  on  my  journey.  The  abb6  is  acquainted  with  the 
whole  history  of  this  matter :  he  will  tell  it  you  again.  He 
could  pardon  me  when  grief  interrupted  my  recital :  as  a 
third  party,  he  will  be  enabled  to  narrate  the  incidents  with 
more  connection.  If,  as  the  abbe  had  proposed,  you  like  to 
follow  me  in  travelling  over  Germany,  you  shall  be  heartily 
welcome.  Leave  not  your  boy  behind  :  at  every  little  incon- 
venience which  he  causes  us,  we  will  again  remember  your 
attentive  care  of  my  poor  niece." 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  73 

The  same  evening  our  party  was  surprised  by  the  arrival 
of  the  countess.  Wilhelm  trembled  in  every  joint  as  she  en- 
tered :  she  herself,  though  forewarned,  kept  close  by  her  sis- 
ter, who  speedily  reached  her  a  chair.  How  singularly  simple 
was  her  attire,  how  altered  was  her  form  !  Wilhelm  scarcely 
dared  to  look  at  her :  she  saluted  him  with  a  kindly  air.;  a 
few  general  words  addressed  to  him  did  not  conceal  her  sen- 
timents and  feelings.  The  marchese  had  retired  betimes ; 
and,  as  the  company  were  not  disposed  to  part  so  early,  the 
abb6  now  produced  a  manuscript.  "  The  singular  narrative 
which  was  intrusted  to  me,"  said  he,  "I  forthwith  put  on 
paper.  The  case  where  pen  and  ink  should  least  of  all  be 
spared,  is  in  recording  the  particular  circumstances  of 
remarkable  events."  They  informed  the  countess  of  the 
matter ;  and  the  abbe"  read  as  follows,  in  the  name  of  the 
marchese :  — 

"  Many  men  as  I  have  seen,  I  still  regard  my  father  as  a 
very  extraordinary  person.  His  character  was  noble  and 
upright ;  his  ideas  were  enlarged,  I  may  even  say  great ;  to 
himself  he  was  severe :  in  all  his  plans  there  was  a  rigid 
order,  in  all  operations  an  unbroken  perseverance.  In  one 
sense,  therefore,  it  was  easy  to  transact  and  live  with  him  : 
yet,  owing  to  the  very  qualities  which  made  it  so,  he  never 
could  accommodate  himself  to  life  ;  for  he  required  from  the 
state,  from  his  neighbors,  from  his  children,  and  his  servants, 
the  observance  of  all  the  laws  which  he  had  laid  upon  him- 
self. His  most  moderate  demands  became  exorbitant  by  his 
rigor ;  and  he  never  could  attain  to  enjoyment,  for  nothing 
ever  was  completed  as  he  had  forecast  it.  At  the  moment 
when  he  was  erecting  a  palace,  laying  out  a  garden,  or  ac- 
quiring a  large  estate  in  the  highest  cultivation,  I  have  seen 
him  inwardly  convinced,  with  the  sternest  ire,  that  Fate  had 
doomed  him  to  do  nothing  but  abstain  and  suffer.  In  his 
exterior  he  maintained  the  greatest  dignity :  if  he  jested,  it 
was  but  displaying  the  preponderancy  of  his  understanding. 
Censure  was  intolerable  to  him :  the  only  time  I  ever  saw 
him  quite  transported  with  rage  was  once  when  he  heard  that 
one  of  his  establishments  was  spoken  of  as  something  ludi- 
crous. In  the  same  spirit  he  had  settled  the  disposal  of  his 
children  and  his  fortune.  My  eldest  brother  was  educated 
as  a  person  that  had  large  estates  to  look  for.  I  was  to  em- 
brace the  clerical  profession :  the  youngest  was  to  be  a 
soldier.  I  was  of  a  lively  temper,  fiery,  active,  quick,  apt 
for  corporeal  exercises  :  the  youngest  rather  seemed  inclined 


74  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

to  an  enthusiastic  quietism, — devoted  to  the  sciences,  to 
music,  and  poetry.  It  was  not  till  after  the  hardest  strug- 
gle, the  maturest  conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  his 
project,  that  our  father,  still  reluctantly,  agreed  to  let  us 
change  vocations ;  and,  although  he  saw  us  both  contented, 
he  could  never  suit  himself  to  this  arrangement,  but  declared 
that  nothing  good  would  come  of  it.  The  older  he  grew,  the 
more  isolated  did  he  feel  from  all  society.  At  last  he  came 
to  live  almost  entirely  alone.  One  old  friend,  who  had  served 
in  the  German  armies,  who  had  lost  his  wife  in  the  campaign, 
and  brought  a  daughter  of  about  ten  years  of  age  along  with 
him,  remained  his  only  visitor.  This  person  bought  a  fine 
little  property  beside  us :  he  used  to  come  and  see  my  father 
on  stated  days  of  the  week,  and  at  stated  hours ;  his  little 
daughter  often  came  along  with  him.  He  was  never  heard  to 
contradict  my  father,  who  at  length  grew  perfectly  habitu- 
ated to  him,  and  endured  him  as  the  only  tolerable  company 
he  had.  After  our  father's  death,  we  easily  observed  that  this 
old  gentleman  had  not  been  visiting  for  naught,  —  that  his 
compliances  had  been  rewarded  by  an  ample  settlement.  He 
enlarged  his  estates  :  his  daughter  might  expect  a  handsome 
portion.  The  girl  grew  up,  and  was  extremely  beautiful : 
my  elder  brother  often  joked  with  me  about  her,  saying  I 
should  go  and  court  her. 

"  Meanwhile  brother  Augustin,  in  the  seclusion  of  his 
cloister,  had  been  spending  his  years  in  the  strangest  state  of 
mind.  He  abandoned  himself  wholly  to  the  feeling  of  a  holy 
enthusiasm,  to  those  half-spiritual,  half-physical  emotions 
which,  as  they  for  a  time  exalted  him  to  the  third  heaven,  ere- 
long sank  him  down  to  an  abyss  of  powerlessness  and  vacant 
misery.  While  my  father  lived,  no  change  could  be  contem- 
plated: what,  indeed,  could  we-  have  asked  for  or  proposed? 
After  the  old  man's  death,  our  brother  visited  us  frequently : 
his  situation,  which  at  first  afflicted  us,  in  time  became  much 
more  tolerable  ;  for  his  reason  had  at  length  prevailed.  But, 
the  more  confidently  reason  promised  him  complete  recovery 
and  contentment  on  the  pure  path  of  nature,  the  more  vehe- 
mently did  he  require  of  us  to  free  him  from  his  vows.  His 
thoughts,  he  let  us  know,  were  turned  upon  Sperata,  our  fair 
neighbor. 

"My  elder  brother  had  experienced  too  much  suffering 
from  the  harshness  of  our  father  to  look  on  the  condition  of 
the  youngest  without  sympathy.  He  spoke  with  the  family 
confessor,  a  worthy  old  man  :  we  signified  to  him  the  double 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  75 

purpose  of  our  brother,  and  requested  him  to  introduce  and 
expedite  the  business.  Contrary  to  custom  he  delayed ;  and 
at  last,  when  Augustin  pressed  us,  and  we  recommended  the 
affair  more  keenly  to  the  clergyman,  he  had  nothing  left  but 
to  impart  the  strange  secret  to  us. 

"  Sperata  was  our  sister,  and  that  by  both  her  parents. 
Our  mother  had  declared  herself  with  child  at  a  time  when 
both  she  and  our  father  were  advanced  in  years :  a  similar 
occurrence  had  shortly  before  been  made  the  subject  of  some 
merriment  in  our  neighborhood  ;  and  our  father,  to  avoid  such 
ridicule,  determined  to  conceal  this  late  lawful  fruit  of  love 
as  carefully  as  people  use  to  conceal  its  earlier  accidental 
fruits.  Our  mother  was  delivered  secretly :  the  child  was 
carried  to  the  country ;  and  the  old  friend  of  the  family, 
who,  with  the  confessor,  had  alone  been  trusted  with  the 
secret,  easily  engaged  to  give  her  out  for  his  daughter.  The 
confessor  had  reserved  the  right  of  disclosing  the  secret  in 
case  of  extremity.  The  supposed  father  was  now  dead : 
Sperata  was  living  with  an  old  lady  ;  we  were  aware  that  a 
love  of  song  and  music  had  already  led  our  brother  to  her ; 
and  on  his  again  requiring  us  to  undo  his  former  bond,  that 
he  might  engage  himself  by  a  new  one,  it  was  necessary  that 
we  should,  as  soon  as  possible,  apprise  him  of  the  danger  he 
stood  in. 

"  He  viewed  us  with  a  wild,  contemptuous  look.  '  Spare 
your  idle  tales,'  cried  he,  '  for  children  and  credulous  fools: 
from  me,  from  my  heart,  they  shall  not  tear  Sperata ;  she  is 
mine.  Recall,  I  pray  you,  instantly,  }'our  frightful  spectre, 
which  would  but  harass  me  in  vain.  Sperata  is  not  my  sister : 
she  is  my  wife  ! '  He  described  to  us,  in  rapturous  terms, 
how  this  heaven!}-  girl  had  drawn  him  out  of  his  unnatural 
state  of  separation  from  his  fellow-creatures  into  true  life  ; 
how  their  spirits  accorded  like  their  voices  ;  how  he  blessed  his 
sufferings  and  errors,  since  they  had  kept  clear  of  him  women, 
till  the  moment  when  4ie  wholly  and  forever  gave  himself  to 
this  most  amiable  being.  We  were  shocked  at  the  discovery, 
we  deplored  his  situation,  but  we  knew  not  how  to  help 
ourselves ;  for  he  declared,  with  violence,  that  Sperata  was 
with  a  child  by  him.  Our  confessor  did  whatever  duty  could 
suggest  to  him,  but  by  this  means  he  only  made  the  evil 
worse.  The  demands  of  nature  and  religion,  moral  rights 
and  civil  laws,  were  vehemently  attacked  and  spurned  at  by 
our  brother.  He  considered  nothing  holy  but  his  relation  to 
Sperata,  nothing  dignified  but  the  names  of  father  and  wife. 


76  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

'These  alone,' cried  he,  'are  suitable  to  nature:  all  else  is 
caprice  and  opinion.  Were  there  not  noble  nations  which 
admitted  marriage  with  a  sister?  Name  not  your  gods  !  You 
never  name  them  but  when  you  wish  to  befool  us,  to  lead  us 
from  the  paths  of  nature,  and,  by  scandalous  constraint,  to 
transform  the  noblest  inclinations  into  crimes.  Unspeakable 
are  the  perplexities,  abominable  the  abuses,  into  which  you 
force  the  victims  whom  you  bury  alive. 

"  '  I  may  speak,  for  I  have  suffered  like  no  other,  —  from 
the  highest,  sweetest  feeling  of  enthusiasm,  to  the  frightful 
deserts  of  utter  powerlessness,  vacancy,  annihilation,  and 
despair ;  from  the  loftiest  aspirations  of  preternatural  exist- 
ence, to  the  most  entire  unbelief,  —  unbelief  in  myself.  All 
these  horrid  grounds  of  the  cup,  so  flattering  at  the  brim,  I 
have  drained ;  and  my  whole  being  was  poisoned  to  its  core. 
And  now,  when  kind  Nature,  by  her  greatest  gift,  by  love, 
has  healed  me ;  now,  when  in  the  arms  of  a  heavenly  crea- 
ture I  again  feel  that  I  am,  that  she  is,  that  out  of  this  living 
union  a  third  shall  arise  and  smile  in  our  faces,  —  now  ye 
open  up  the  flames  of  your  hell,  of  your  purgatory,  which 
can  only  singe  a  sick  imagination :  ye  oppose  them  to  the 
vivid,  true,  indestructible  enjoyment  of  pure  love.  Meet 
us  under  these  cypresses,  which  turn  their  solemn  tops  to 
heaven  ;  visit  us  among  those  espaliers  where  the  citrons  and 
pomegranates  bloom  beside  us,  where  the  graceful  myrtle 
stretches  out  its  tender  flowers  to  us,  —  and  then  venture  to 
disturb  us  with  your  dreary,  paltry  nets  which  men  have 
spun !  ' 

"  Thus  for  a  long  time  he  persisted  in  a  stubborn  disbelief 
of  our  story ;  and  when  we  assured  him  of  its  truth,  when 
the  confessor  himself  asseverated  it,  he  did  not  let  it  drive 
him  from  his  point.  '  Ask  not  the  echoes  of  your  cloisters, 
not  your  mouldering  parchments,  not  your  narrow  whims 
and  ordinances  !  Ask  Nature  and  your  heart :  she  will  teach 
you  what  you  should  recoil  from  ;  shfe  will  point  out  to  you 
with  the  strictest  finger  over  what  she  has  pronounced  her 
everlasting  curse.  Look  at  the  lilies :  do  not  husband  and 
wife  shoot  forth  on  the  same  stalk?  Does  not  the  flower 
which  bore  them  hold  them  both?  And  is  not  the  lily  the 
type  of  innocence?  Is  not  their  sisterly  union  fruitful? 
When  Nature  abhors,  she  speaks  it  aloud  ;  the  creature  that 
shall  not  be,  is  not  produced  ;  the  creature  that  lives  with  a 
false  life,  is  soon  destroyed.  Unfruitfuluess,  painful  exist- 
ence, early  destruction,  these  are  her  curses,  the  marks  of 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  77 

her  displeasure.  It  is  only  by  immediate  consequences  that 
she  punishes.  Look  around  you ;  and  what  is  prohibited, 
what  is  accursed,  will  force  itself  upon  your  notice.  In  the 
silence  of  the  convent,  in  the  tumult  of  the  world,  a  thou- 
sand practices  are  consecrated  and  revered,  while  her  curse 
rests  on  them.  On  stagnant  idleness  as  on  overstrained  toil, 
on  caprice  and  superfluity  as  on  constraint  and  want,  she 
looks  down  with  mournful  eyes ;  her  call  is  to  moderation ; 
true  are  all  her  commandments,  peaceful  all  her  influences. 
The  man  who  has  suffered  as  I  have  done,  has  a  right  to  be 
free.  Sperata  is  mine  :  death  alone  shall  take  her  from  me. 
How  I  shall  retain  her,  how  I  may  be  happj',  these  are  your 
cares.  This  instant  I  go  to  her,  and  part  from  her  no  more.' 

u  He  was  for  proceeding  to  the  boat,  and  crossing  over  to 
her :  we  restrained  him,  entreating  that  he  would  not  take 
a  step  which  might  produce  the  most  tremendous  conse- 
quences. He  should  recollect,  we  told  him,  that  he  was  not 
living  in  the  free  world  of  his  own  thoughts  and  ideas,  but 
in  a  constitution  of  affairs,  the  ordiuauces  and  conditions  of 
which  had  become  as  inflexible  as  laws  of  nature.  The  con- 
fessor made  us  promise  not  to  let  him  leave  our  sight,  still 
less  our  house  :  after  this  he  went  away,  engaging  to  return 
erelong.  What  we  had  foreseen  took  place :  reason  had 
made  our  brother  strong,  but  his  heart  was  weak  ;  the  earlier 
impressions  of  religion  rose  on  him,  and  dreadful  doubts 
along  with  them.  He  passed  two  fearful  nights  and  days : 
the  confessor  came  again  to  his  assistance,  but  in  vain.  His 
enfranchised  understanding  acquitted  him :  his  feelings,  re- 
ligion, all  his  usual  ideas,  declared  him  guilty. 

""  One  morning  we  found  his  chamber  empty  :  on  the  table 
lay  a  note,  in  which  he  signified,  that,  as  we  kept  him  pris- 
oner by  force,  he  felt  himself  entitled  to  provide  for  his  free- 
dom ;  that  he  meant  to  go  directly  to  Sperata ;  he  expected 
to  escape  with  her,  and  was  prepared  for  the  most  terrible 
extremities  should  any  separation  be  attempted. 

"•  The  news,  of  course,  affrighted  us  exceedingly  ;  but  the 
confessor  bade  us  be  at  rest.  Our  poor  brother  had  been 
narrowly  enough  observed  :  the  boatman,  in  place  of  taking 
him  across,  proceeded  with  him  to  his  cloister.  Fatigued 
with  watching  for  the  space  of  four  and  twenty  hours,  he 
fell  asleep,  as  the  skiff  began  to  rock  him  in  the  moonshine  ; 
and  he  did  not  awake  till  he  saw  himself  in  the  hands  of  his 
spiritual  brethren  :  he  did  not  recover  from  his  amazement 
till  he  heard  the  doors  of  the  convent  bolting  behind  him. 


78  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"  Sharply  touched  at  the  fate  of  our  brother,  we  reproached 
the  confessor  for  his  cruelty ;  but  he  soon  silenced  or  con- 
vinced us  by  the  surgeon's  reason,  that  our  pity  was  destruc- 
tive to  the  patient.  He  let  us  know  that  he  was  not  act- 
ing on  his  own  authority,  but  by  order  of  the  bishop  and 
his  chapter ;  that  by  this  proceeding  they  intended  to  avoid 
all  public  scandal,  and  to  shroud  the  sad  occurrence  under 
the  veil  of  a  secret  course  of  discipline  prescribed  by  the 
Church.  Our  sister  they  would  spare :  she  was  not  to  be 
told  that  her  lover  was  her  brother.  The  charge  of  her  was 
given  to  a  priest,  to  whom  she  had  before  disclosed  her  situ- 
ation. They  contrived  to  hide  her  pregnancy  and  her  deliv- 
ery. As  a  mother  she  felt  altogether  happy  in  her  little  one. 
Like  most  of  our  women,  she  could  neither  write,  nor  read 
writing  :  she  gave  the  priest  many  verbal  messages  to  carry 
to  her  lover.  The  latter,  thinking  that  he  owed  this  pious 
fraud  to  a  suckling  mother,  often  brought  pretended  tidings 
from  our  brother,  whom  he  never  saw ;  recommending  her, 
in  his  name,  to  be  at  peace  ;  begging  of  her  to  be  careful  of 
herelf  and  of  her  child,  and  for  the  rest  to  trust  in  God. 

' '  Sperata  was  inclined  by  nature  to  religious  feelings. 
Her  situation,  her  solitude,  increased  this  tendency :  the 
clergyman  encouraged  it,  in  order  to  prepare  her  by  degrees 
for  an  eternal  separation.  Scarcely  was  her  child  weaned, 
scarcely  did  he  think  her  body  strong  enough  for  suffering 
agony  of  mind,  when  he  began  to  paint  her  fault  to  her  in 
most  terrific  colors,  to  treat  the  crime  of  being  connected 
with  a  priest  as  a  sort  of  sin  against  nature,  as  a  sort  of  in- 
cest. For  he  had  taken  up  the  strange  thought  of  making 
her  repentance  equal  in  intensity  to  what  it  would  have  been 
had  she  known  the  true  circumstances  of  her  error.  He 
thereby  produced  so  much  anxiety  and  sorrow  in  her  mind ; 
he  so  exalted  the  idea  of  the  Church  and  of  its  head  before 
her ;  showed  her  the  awful  consequences,  for  the  weal  of  all 
men's  souls,  should  indulgence  in  a  case  like  this  be  granted, 
and  the  guilty  pair  rewarded  by  a  lawful  union  ;  signifying, 
too,  how  wholesome  it  was  to  expiate  such  sins  in  time,  and 
thereby  gain  the  crown  of  immortality,  —  that  at  last,  like  a 
poor  criminal,  she  willingly  held  out  her  neck  to  the  axe, 
and  earnestly  entreated  that  she  might  forever  be  divided 
from  our  brother.  Having  gained  so  much,  the  clergy  left 
her  the  liberty  (reserving  to  themselves  a  certain  distant 
oversight)  to  live  at  one  time  in  a  convent,  at  another  in 
her  house,  according  as  she  afterwards  thought  good. 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  79 

"  Her  little  girl,  meanwhile,  was  growing:  from  her  ear- 
liest years  she  had  displayed  an  extraordinary  disposition. 
When  still  very  young,  she  could  run  and -move  with  won- 
derful dexterity :  she  sang  beautifully,  and  learned  to  play 
upon  the  cithern  almost  of  herself.  With  words,  however, 
she  could  not  express  herself;  and  the  impediment  seemed 
rather  to  proceed  from  her  mode  of  thought  than  from  her 
organs  of  speech.  The  feelings  of  the  poor  mother  to  her, 
in  the  mean  time,  were  of  the  most  painful  kind :  the  ex- 
postulations of  the  priest  had  so  perplexed  her  mind,  that, 
though  she  was  not  quite  deranged,  her  state  was  far  from 
being  sane.  She  daily  thought  her  crime  more  terrible  and 
punishable :  the  clergyman's  comparison  of  incest,  frequently 
repeated,  had  impressed  itself  so  deeply,  that  her  horror  was 
not  less  than  if  the  actual  circumstances  had  been  known  to 
her.  The  priest  took  no  small  credit  for  his  ingenuity,  with 
which  he  had  contrived  to  tear  asunder  a  luckless  creature's 
heart.  It  was  miserable  to  behold  maternal  love,  ready  to 
expand  itself  in  joy  at  the  existence  of  her  child,  contending 
with  the  frightful  feeling  that  this  child  should  not  exist. 
The  two  emotions  warred  with  each  other  in  her  soul :  love 
was  often  weaker  than  aversion. 

"  The  child  had  long  ago  been  taken  from  her,  and  com- 
mitted to  a  worthy  family  residing  on  the  seashore.  In  the 
greater  freedom  which  the  little  creature  enjoyed  here,  she 
soon  displayed  her  singular  delight  in  climbing.  To  mount 
the  highest  peaks,  to  run  along  the  edges  of  the  ships,  to 
imitate  in  all  their  strangest  feats  the  rope-dancers  whom 
she  often  saw  in  the  place,  seemed  a  natural  tendency  in  her. 

"  To  practise  these  things  with  the  greater  ease,  she  liked 
to  change  clothes  with  boys ;  and,  though  her  foster-parents 
thought  this  highly  blamable  and  unbecoming,  we  bade  them 
indulge  her  as  much  as  possible.  Her  wild  walks  and  leap- 
ings  often  led  her  to  a  distance :  she  would  lose  her  way, 
and  be  long  from  home,  but  she  always  came  back.  In 
general,  as  she  return ed,  she  used  to  set  herself  beneath  the 
columns  in  the  portal  of  a  country  house  in  the  neighbor- 
hood :  her  people  now  had  ceased  to  look  for  her ;  they 
waited  for  her.  She  would  there  lie  resting  on  the  steps, 
then  run  up  and  down  the  large  hall,  looking  at  the  statues ; 
after  which,  if  nothing  specially  detained  her,  she  used  to 
hasten  home. 

"  But  at  last  our  confidence  was  balked,  and  our  indul- 
gence punished.  The  child  went  out,  and  did  not  come  again : 


80  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

her  little  hat  was  found  swimming  on  the  water  near  the  spot 
where  a  torrent  rushes  down  into  the  sea.  It  was  conjectured, 
that,  in  clambering  among  the  rocks,  her  foot  had  slipped : 
all  our  searching  could  not  find  the  body. 

"  The  thoughtless  tattle  of  her  housemates  soon  com- 
municated the  occurrence  to  Sperata :  she  seemed  calm  and 
cheerful  when  she  heard  it ;  hinting  not  obscurely  at  her 
satisfaction  that  God  had  pleased  to  take  her  poor  child  to 
himself,  and  thus  preserved  it  from  suffering,  or  causing  some 
more  dreadful  misery. 

"  On  this  occasion  all  the  fables  which  are  told  about  our 
waters  came  to  be  the  common  talk.  The  sea,  it  was  said, 
required  every  year  an  innocent  child :  yet  it  would  endure 
no  corpse,  but  sooner  or  later  throw  it  to  the  shore  ;  nay,  the 
last  joint,  though  sunk  to  the  lowest  bottom,  must  again 
come  forth.  They  told  the  story  of  a  mother,  inconsolable 
because  her  child  had  perished  in  the  sea,  who  prayed  to  God 
and  his  saints  to  grant  her  at  least  the  bones  for  burial.  The 
first  storm  threw  ashore  the  skull,  the  next  the  spine  ;  and, 
after  all  was  gathered,  she  wrapped  the  bones  in  a  cloth,  and 
took'them  to  the  church :  but,  oh !  miraculous  to  tell !  as  she 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  temple,  the  packet  grew  heavier 
and  heavier ;  and  at  last,  when  she  laid  it  on  the  steps  of  the 
altar,  the  child  began  to  cry,  and  issued  living  from  the  cloth. 
One  joint  of  the  right-hand  little  finger  was  alone  wautiug  : 
this,  too,  the  mother  anxiously  sought  and  found ;  and,  in 
memory  of  the  event,  it  was  preserved  among  the  other 
relics  of  the  church. 

"  On  poor  Sperata  these  recitals  made  a  deep  impression : 
her  imagination  took  a  new  flight,  and  favored  the  emotion 
of  her  heart.  She  supposed  that  now  the  child  had  expiated, 
b}T  its  death,  both  its  own  sins  and  the  sins  of  its  parents ; 
that  the  curse  and  penalty  which  hitherto  had  overhung  them 
all  was  at  length  wholly  removed ;  that  nothing  more  was 
necessary  could  she  only  find  the  child's  bones,  that  she 
might  carry  them  to  Rome,  where,  upon  the  steps  of  the  great 
altar  in  St.  Peter's,  her  little  girl,  again  covered  with  its 
fair,  fresh  skin,  would  stand  up  alive  before  the  people. 
With  its  own  eyes  it  would  once  more  look  on  father  and 
mother ;  and  the  pope,  convinced  that  God  and  his  saints 
commanded  it,  would,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  people, 
remit  the  parents  their  sins,  acquit  them  of  their  oaths,  and 
join  their  hands  in  wedlock. 

"  Her  looks  and  her  anxiety  were  henceforth  constantly 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  81 

directed  to  the  sea  and  the  beach.  When  at  night,  in  the 
moonshine,  the  waves  were  tossing  to  and  fro,  she  thought 
every  glittering  sheet  of  foam  was  bringing  out  her  child ; 
and  some  one  about  her  had  to  run  off,  as  if  to  take  it  up 
when  it  should  reach  the  shore. 

"  By  day  she  walked  uuweariedly  along  the  places  where 
the  pebbly  beach  shelved  slowly  to  the  water :  she  gathered 
in  a  little  basket  all  the  bones  she  could  find.  None  durst 
tell  her  that  they  were  the  bones  of  animals  :  the  larger  ones 
she  buried,  the  little  ones  she  took  along  with  her.  In  this 
employment  she  incessant!}7  persisted.  The  clergyman,  who, 
by  so  unremittingly  discharging  what  he  thought  his  duty, 
had  reduced  her  to  this  condition,  now  stood  up  for  her  with 
all  his  might.  By  his  influence  the  people  in  the  neighbor- 
hood were  made  to  look  upon  her,  not  as  a  distracted  person, 
but  as  one  entranced :  they  stood  in  reverent  attitudes  as 
she  walked  by,  and  the  children  ran  to  kiss  her  hand. 

"  To  the  old  woman,  her  attendant  and  faithful  friend,  the 
secret  of  Sperata's  guilt  was  at  length  imparted  by  the 
priest,  on  her  solemnly  engaging  to  watch  over  the  unhappy 
creature,  with  untiring  care,  through  all  her  life.  And  she 
kept  this  engagement  to  the  last,  with  admirable  conscien- 
tiousness and  patience. 

"  Meanwhile  we  had  always  had  an  eye  upon  our  brother. 
Neither  the  physicians  nor  the  clergy  of  his  convent  would 
allow  us  to  be  seen  by  him  ;  but,  in  order  to  convince  us  of 
his  being  well  in  some  sort,  we  had  leave  to  look  at  him  as 
often  as  we  liked  in  the  garden,  the  passages,  or  even  through 
a  window  in  the  roof  of  his  apartment. 

"After  many  terrible  and  singular  changes,  which  I  shall 
omit,  he  had  passed  into  a  strange  state  of  mental  rest  and 
bodily  unrest.  He  never  sat  but  when  he  took  his  harp 
and  played  upon  it,  and  then  he  usually  accompanied  it  with 
singing.  At  other  times  he  kept  continually  in  motion  ; 
and  in  all  things  he  was  grown  extremely  guidable  and  pliant, 
for  all  his  passions  seemed  to  have  resolved  themselves  into 
the  single  fear  of  death.  You  could  persuade  him  to  do  any 
thing  by  threatening  him  with  dangerous  sickness  or  with 
death. 

"  Besides  this  singularity  of  walking  constantly  about  the 
cloister,  a  practice  which  he  hinted  it  were  better  to  exchange 
for  wandering  over  hill  and  dale,  he  talked  about  an  ap- 
parition which  perpetually  tormented  him.  He  declared, 
that,  on  awakening  at  whatever  hour  of  the  night,  he  saw  ft 


82  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

beautiful  boy  standing  at  the  foot  of  his  bed,  with  a  bare 
knife,  and  threatening  to  destroy  him.  They  shifted  him  to 
various  other  chambers  of  the  convent,  but  he  still  asserted 
that  the  boy  pursued  him.  His  wandering  to  and  fro  became 
more  unrestf ul :  the  people  afterwards  remembered,  too,  that 
at  this  time  they  had  often  seen  him  stand  at  the  window, 
and  look  out  upon  the  sea. 

"Our  poor  sister,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  gradually 
wasting  under  the  consuming  influence  of  her  single  thought, 
of  her  narrow  occupation.  It  was  at  last  proposed  by  the 
physician,  that,  among  the  bones  she  had  gathered,  the  frag- 
ments of  a  child's  skeleton  should  by  degrees  be  introduced, 
and  so  the  hapless  mother's  hopes  kept  up.  The  experiment 
was  dubious  ;  but  this  at  least  seemed  likely  to  be  gained  by 
it,  that,  when  all  the  parts  were  got  together,  she  would  cease 
her  weary  search,  and  might  be  entertained  with  hopes  of 
going  to  Rome. 

"  It  was  accordingly  resolved  on.  Her  attendant  changed, 
by  imperceptible  degrees,  the  small  remains  committed  to 
her  with  the  bones  Sperata  found.  An  inconceivable  delight 
arose  in  the  poor,  sick  woman's  heart,  when  the  parts  began 
to  fit  each  other,  and  the  shape  of  those  still  wanting  could 
be  marked.  She  had  fastened  every  fragment  in  its  proper 
place  with  threads  and  ribbons  ;  filling  up  the  vacant  spaces 
with  embroidery  and  silk,  as  is  usually  done  with  the  relics 
of  saints. 

' '  In  this  way  nearly  all  the  bones  had  been  collected  :  none 
but  a  few  of  the  extremities  were  wanting.  One  morning, 
while  she  was  asleep,  the  physician  having  come  to  ask  for 
her,  the  old  attendant,  with  a  view  to  show  him  how  his  pa- 
tient occupied  herself,  took  away  these  dear  remains  from 
the  little  chest  where  they  lay  in  poor  Sperata' s  bedroom. 
A  few  minutes  afterwards  they  heard  her  spring  upon  the 
floor :  she  lifted  up  the  cloth,  and  found  the  chest  empty. 
She  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  :  they  came,  and  listened  to 
her  joyful,  ardent  prayer.  '  Yes,'  exclaimed  she,  'it  is  true  ! 
it  was  no  dream,  it  is  real !  Rejoice  with  me,  my  friends  !  I 
have  seen  my  own  beautiful,  good  little  girl  again  alive.  She 
arose,  and  threw  the  veil  from  off  her ;  her  splendor  enlight- 
ened all  the  room  ;  her  beauty  was  transfigured  to , celestial 
loveliness ;  she  could  not  tread  the  ground,  although  she 
wished  it.  Lightly  was  she  borne  aloft :  she  had  not  even 
time  to  stretch  her  hand  to  me.  "  There!  "  cried  she  to  me, 
and  pointed  to  the  road  where  I  am  soon  to  go.  Yes,  I  will 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  83 

follow  her,  —  soon  follow  her :  my  heart  is  light  to  think  of 
it.  My  sorrows  are  already  vanished :  the  sight  of  my  risen 
little  one  has  given  me  a  foretaste  of  the  heavenly  joys.' 

"  From  that  time  her  soul  was  wholly  occupied  with  pros- 
pects of  the  brightest  kind ;  she  gave  no  further  heed  to  any 
earthly  object ;  she  took  but  little  food  ;  her  spirit  by  degrees 
cast  off  the  fetters  of  the  body.  At  last  this  imperceptible 
gradation  reached  its  head  unexpectedly :  her  attendants 
found  her  pale  and  motionless ;  she  opened  not  her  eyes ; 
she  was  what  we  call  dead. 

"  The  report  of  her  vision  quickly  spread  abroad  among 
the  people  ;  and  the  reverential  feeling,  which  she  had  excited 
in  her  lifetime,  soon  changed,  at  her  death,  to  the  thought 
that  she  should  be  regarded  as  in  bliss,  —  nay,  as  in  sanc- 
tity. 

"When  we  were  bearing  her  to  be  interred,  a  crowd  of 
persons  pressed  with  boundless  violence  about  the  bier :  they 
would  touch  her  hand,  they  would  touch  her  garment.  In 
this  impassioned  elevation,  various  sick  persons  ceased  to 
feel  the  pains  by  which  at  other  times  they  were  tormented : 
they  looked  upon  themselves  as  healed ;  they  declared  it ; 
they  praised  God  and  his  new  saint.  The  clergy  were  obliged 
to  lay  the  body  in  a  neighboring  chapel :  the  people  called 
for  opportunity  to  offer  their  devotion.  The  concourse  was 
incredible  :  the  mountaineers,  at  all  times  prone  to  lively  and 
religious  feelings,  crowded  forward  from  their  valleys ;  the 
reverence,  the  wonder,  the  adoration,  daily  spread,  and  gath- 
ered strength.  The  ordinances  of  the  bishop,  which  were 
meant  to  limit,  and  in  time  abolish,  this  new  worship,  could 
not  be  put  in  execution  :  every  show  of  opposition  raised  the 
people  into  tumults ;  every  unbeliever  they  were  ready  to 
assail  with  personal  violence.  '  Did  not  Saint  Borromasus,' 
cried  they,  '  dwell  among  our  forefathers  ?  Did  not  his 
mother  live  to  taste  the  joy  of  his  canonization?  Was  not 
that  great  figure  on  the  rocks  at  Arona  meant  to  represent 
to  us,  by  a  sensible  symbol,  his  spiritual  greatness?  Do  not 
the  descendants  of  his  kindred  live  among  us  to  this  hour? 
And  has  not  God  promised  ever  to  renew  his  miracles  among 
a  people  that  believe  ? ' 

"  As  the  body,  after  several  days,  exhibited  no  marks  of 
putrefaction,  but  grew  whiter,  and,  as  it  were,  translucent, 
the  general  faith  rose  higher  and  higher.  Among  the  mul- 
titude were  several  cures  which  even  the  sceptical  observer 
was  unable  to  account  for,  or  ascribe  entirely  to  fraud.  The 


84  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

whole  country  was  in  motion :  those  who  did  not  go  to  see 
it,  heard  at  least  no  other  topic  talked  of. 

"  The  convent  where  my  brother  lived  resounded,  like  the 
land  at  large,  with  the  noise  of  these  wonders  ;  and  the  peo- 
ple felt  the  less  restraint  in  speaking  of  them  in  his  presence, 
as  in  general  he  seemed  to  pay  no  heed  to  any  thing,  and  his 
connection  with  the  circumstance  was  known  to  none  of  them. 
But  on  this  occasion  it  appeared  he  had  listened  with  atten- 
tion. He  conducted  his  escape  with  such  dexterity  and  cun- 
ning, that  the  manner  of  it  still  remains  a  mystery.  We 
learned  afterwards,  that  he  had  crossed  the  water  with  a 
number  of  travellers,  and  charged  the  boatmen,  who  ob- 
served no  other  singularity  about  him,  above  all  to  have  a 
care  lest  their  vessel  overset.  Late  in  the  night  he  reached 
the  chapel,  where  his  hapless  loved  one  was  resting  from  her 
woes.  Only  a  few  devotees  were  kneeling  in  the  corners  of 
the  place  :  her  old  friend  was  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  corpse  ; 
he  walked  up  to  her,  saluted  her,  and  asked  how  her  mistress 
was.  '  You  see  it,'  answered  she,  with  some  embarrassment. 
He  looked  at  the  corpse  with  a  sidelong  glance.  After  some 
delay  he  took  its  hand.  Frightened  by  its  coldness,  he  in 
the  instant  let  it  go :  he  looked  unrestfully  around  him ; 
then,  turning  to  the  old  attendant,  '  I  cannot  stay  with  her  at 
present,'  said  he :  '  I  have  a  long,  long  way  to  travel;  but 
at  the  proper  time  I  shall  be  back:  tell  her  so  when  she 
awakens.' 

"  With  this  he  went  away.  It  was  a  while  before  we  got 
intelligence  of  these  occurrences :  we  searched,  but  all  our 
efforts  to  discover  him  were  vain.  How  he  worked  his  way 
across  the  mountains  none  can  say.  A  long  time  after  he 
was  gone  we  came  upon  a  trace  of  him  among  the  Grisons, 
but  we  were  too  late :  it  quickly  vanished.  We  supposed 
that  he  was  gone  to  Germany,  but  his  weak  footprints  had 
been  speedily  obliterated  by  the  war." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  abb4  ceased  to  read.  No  one  had  listened  without 
tears.  The  countess  scarcely  ever  took  her  handkerchief 
from  her  eyes :  at  last  she  rose,  and,  with  Natalia,  left  the 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  85 

room.  The  rest  were  silent,  till  the  abbe"  thus  began  :  "  The 
question  now  arises,  whether  we  shall  let  the  good  marchese 
leave  us  without  telling  him  our  secret.  For  who  can  doubt 
a  moment  that  our  harper  and  his  brother  Augustin  are  one? 
Let  us  consider  what  is  to  be  done,  both  for  the  sake  of  that 
unhappy  man  himself  and  of  his  family.  My  advice  is,  not 
to  hurry,  but  to  wait  till  we  have  heard  what  news  the  doctor, 
who  has  gone  to  see  him,  brings  us  back." 

All  were  of  the  same  opinion ;  and  the  abb£  thus  pro- 
ceeded :  ''Another  question,  which  perhaps  may  be  disposed 
of  sooner,  still  remains.  The  marchese  is  affected  to  the 
bottom  of  his  heart  at  the  kindness  which  his  poor  niece 
experienced  here,  particularly  from  our  young  friend.  He 
made  me  tell  him  again  and  again  every  circumstance  con- 
nected with  her,  and  he  shows  the  liveliest  gratitude.  '  Her 
young  benefactor,'  he  said,  '  refused  to  travel  with  me,  while 
he  knew  not  the  connection  that  subsists  between  us.  I  am 
not  now  a  stranger,  of  whose  manner  of  existence,  of  whose 
humors,  he  might  be  uncertain  :  I  am  his  associate,  his  rela- 
tion ;  and,  as  his  unwillingness  to  leave  his  boy  behind  was 
the  impediment  which  kept  him  from  accompanying  me,  let 
this  child  now  become  a  fairer  bond  to  join  us  still  more 
closely.  Beyond  the  obligations  he  has  already  placed  me 
under,  let  him  be  of  service  to  me  on  my  present  journey ; 
let  him,  then,  return  along  with  me ;  my  elder  brother  will 
receive  him  as  he  ought.  And  let  him  not  despise  the  heri- 
tage of  his  unhappy  foster-child ;  for,  by  a  secret  stipulation 
of  our  father  with  his  military  friend,  the  fortune  which  he 
gave  Sperata  has  returned  to  us :  and  certainly  we  will  not 
cheat  our  niece's  benefactor  of  the  recompense  he  has  merited 
so  well.'  " 

Theresa,  taking  Wilhelm  by  the  hand,  now  said  to  him, 
' '  We  have  here  another  beautiful  example  that  disinterested 
well-doing  yields  the  highest  and  best  return.  Follow  the 
call  which  so  strangely  comes  to  you,  and,  while  you  lay  a 
double  load  of  gratitude  on  the  marchese,  hasten  to  a  fail- 
land,  which  has  already  often  drawn  your  heart  and  your 
imagination  towards  it." 

"  I  leave  myself  entirely  to  the  guidance  of  my  friends 
and  you,' '  said  Wilhelm  :  "  it  is  vain  to  think,  in  this  world, 
of  adhering  to  our  individual  will.  What  I  purposed  to  hold 
fast,  I  must  let  go ;  and  benefits  which  I  have  not  deserved 
descend  upon  me  of  their  own  accord." 

Pressing  Theresa's   hand,  Wilhelm   took  his  own  away. 


86  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"I  give  you  full  permission,"  said  he  to  the  abbe,  "to 
decide  about  me  as  you  please.  Since  I  shall  not  need  to 
leave  my  Felix,  I  am  ready  to  go  anywhither,  and  to  under- 
take whatever  you  think  good." 

Thus  authorized,  the  abb6  forthwith  sketched  out  his 
plan.  The  marchese,  he  proposed,  should  be  allowed  to  de- 
part :  Wilhelm  was  to  wait  for  tidings  from  the  doctor ;  he 
might  then,  when  they  had  settled  what  was  to  be  done,  set 
off  with  Felix.  Accordingly,  under  the  pretence  that  Wil- 
helm's  preparations  for  his  journey  would  detain  him,  he  ad- 
vised the  stranger  to  employ  the  mean  while  in  examining  the 
curiosities  of  the  city,  which  he  meant  to  visit.  The  mar- 
chese did  in  consequence  depart,  and  not  without  renewed 
and  strong  expressions  of  his  gratitude ;  of  which  indeed 
the  presents  left  by  him,  including  jewels,  precious  stones, 
embroidered  stuffs,  afforded  a  sufficient  proof. 

Wilhelm,  too,  was  at  length  in  readiness  for  travelling ;  and 
his  friends  began  to  be  distressed  that  the  doctor  sent  them 
no  news.  They  feared  some  mischief  had  befallen  the  poor 
old  harper,  at  the  very  moment  when  they  were  in  hopes  of 
radically  improving  his  condition.  They  sent  the  courier 
off  ;  but  he  was  scarcely  gone,  when  the  doctor  in  the  even- 
ing entered  with  a  stranger,  whose  form  and  aspect  were 
expressive,  earnest,  striking,  and  whom  no  one  knew.  Both 
stood  silent  for  a  space :  the  stranger  at  length  weut  up  to 
Wilhelm,  and,  holding  out  his  hand,  said,  "  Do  you  no 
longer  know  your  old  friend?"  It  was  the  harper's  voice, 
but  of  his  form  there  seemed  to  remain  no  vestige.  He  was 
in  the  common  garb  of  a  traveller,  cleanly  and  genteelly 
equipped ;  his  beard  had  vanished ;  his  hair  was  dressed  with 
some  attention  to  the  mode ;  and  what  particularly  made  him 
quite  irrecognizable  was,  that  in  his  countenance  the  look  of 
age  was  no  longer  visible.  Wilhelm  embraced  him  with  the 
liveliest  joy :  he  was  presented  to  the  rest,  and  behaved  with 
great  propriety,  not  knowing  that  the  party  had  a  little  while 
before  become  so  well  acquainted  with  him.  "You  will 
have  patience  with  a  man,"  continued  he,  with  great  com- 
posure, "  who,  grown  up  as  he  appears,  is  entering  on  the 
world,  after  long  sorrows,  inexperienced  as  a  child.  To  this 
skilful  gentleman  I  stand  indebted  for  the  privilege  of  again 
appearing  in  the  company  of  my  fellow-men." 

They  bade  him  welcome  :  the  doctor  motioned  for  a  walk, 
to  interrupt  the  conversation,  and  lead  it  to  indifferent  topics. 

In  private  the  doctor  gave  the  following  explanation :    "It 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  87 

was  by  the  strangest  chance  that  we  succeeded  in  the  cure 
of  this  man.  We  had  long  treated  him,  morally  and  physi- 
cally, as  our  best  consideration  dictated  :  in  some  degree  the 
plan  was  efficacious  ;  but  the  fear  of  death  continued  power- 
ful in  him,  and  he  would  not  lay  aside  his  beard  and  cloak. 
For  the  rest,  however,  he  appeared  to  take  more  interest 
in  external  things  than  formerly ;  and  both  his  songs  and 
his  conceptions  seemed  to  be  approaching  nearer  life.  A 
strange  letter  from  the  clergyman,  as  you  already  know,  called 
me  from  you.  I  arrived:  I  found  our  patient  altogether 
changed  ;  he  had  voluntarily  given  up  his  beard  ;  he  had  let 
his  locks  be  cut  into  a  customary  form  ;  he  asked  for  common 
clothes  ;  he  seemed  to  have  all  at  once  become  another  man. 
Though  curious  to  penetrate  the  reason  of  this  sudden  alter- 
ation, we  did  not  risk  inquiring  of  himself:  at  last  we  acci- 
dentally discovered  it.  A  glass  of  laudanum  was  missing 
from  the  parson's  private  laboratory :  we  thought  it  right  to 
institute  a  strict  inquiry  ;  every  one  endeavored  to  ward  off 
suspicion,  and  the  sharpest  quarrels  rose  among  the  inmates 
of  the  house.  At  last  this  man  appeared  before  us,  and 
admitted  that  he  had  the  laudanum :  we  asked  if  he  had 
swallowed  any  of  it.  'No,'  said  he,  '  but  it  is  to  this  that 
I  owe  the  recovery  of  my  reason.  It  is  at  your  choice  to 
take  the  vial  from  me,  and  to  drive  me  back,  inevitably, 
to  my  former  state.  The  feeling,  that  it  was  desirable  to  see 
the  pains  of  life  terminated  by  death,  first  put  me  on  the 
way  of  cure :  before  long  the  thought  of  terminating  them 
by  voluntary  death  arose  in  me,  and  with  this  intention  I  took 
the  glass  of  poison.  The  possibility  of  casting  off  my  load 
of  griefs  forever  gave  me  strength  to  bear  them ;  and  thus 
have  I,  ever  since  this  talisman  came  into  my  possession, 
forced  myself  back  into  life  by  a  contiguit}-  with  death.  Be 
not  anxious  lest  I  use  the  drug,  but  resolve,  as  men  ac- 
quainted with  the  human  heart,  by  granting  me  an  independ- 
ence of  life,  to  make  me  properly  and  wholesomely  dependent 
on  it.'  After  mature  consideration,  we  determined  not  to 
meddle  further  with  him  ;  and  he  now  carries  with  him,  in  a 
firm  little  ground-glass  vial,  this  poison,  of  which  he  has  so 
strangely  made  an  antidote." 

The  doctor  was  informed  of  all  that  had  become  known  in 
the  mean  time  :  towards  Augustin  it  was  determined  that  they 
should  observe  the  deepest  silence  in  regard  to  it.  The  abbe" 
undertook  to  keep  beside  him,  and  to  lead  him  forward  on 
the  healthful  path  he  had  entered. 


88  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Meanwhile  \Vilhelm  was  to  set  about  his  journey  over 
Germany  with  the  marchese.  If  it  should  appear  that 
Augustin  could  be  again  excited  to  affection  for  his  native 
country,  the  circumstances  were  to  be  communicated  to  his 
friends,  and  Wilhehn  might  conduct  him  thither. 

Wilhelm  had  at  last  made  every  preparation  for  his  jour- 
ney. At  first  the  abb6  thought  it  strange  that  Augustin 
rejoiced  in  hearing  of  his  friend  and  benefactor's  purpose  to 
depart,  but  he  soon  discovered  the  foundation  of  this  curious 
movement.  Augustin  could  not  subdue  his  fear  of  Felix ; 
and  he  longed,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  see  the  boy  removed. 

By  degrees  so  many  people  had  assembled,  that  the  castle 
and  adjoining  buildings  could  scarcely  accommodate  them  all, 
and  the  less,  as  such  a  multitude  of  guests  had  not  originally 
been  anticipated.  They  breakfasted,  they  dined,  together : 
each  endeavored  to  persuade  himself  that  they  were  living  in 
a  comfortable  harmony  ;  but  each,  in  secret,  longed  in  some 
degree  to  be  away.  Theresa  frequently  rode  out,  attended 
by  Lothario,  and  oftener  alone :  she  had  already  got  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  landladies  and  landlords  in  the  district ; 
for  she  held  it  as  a  principle  of  her  economy,  in  which,  per- 
haps, she  was  not  far  mistaken,  that  it  is  essential  to  be  in 
good  acceptance  with  one's  neighbors,  male  and  female,  and 
to  maintain  with  them  a  constant  interchange  of  civilities. 
Of  an  intended  marriage  with  Lothario,  she  appeared  to  have 
no  thought.  Natalia  and  the  countess  often  talked  with  one 
another ;  the  abbe  seemed  to  covet  the  society  of  Augustin  ; 
Jarno  had  frequent  conversations  with  the  doctor ;  Friedrich 
held  by  Wilhelm ;  Felix  ran  about  wherever  he  could  meet 
with  most  amusement.  It  was  thus,  too,  that  in  general  they 
paired  themselves  in  walking  when  the  company  broke  up : 
when  it  was  obliged  to  be  together,  recourse  was  quickly  had 
to  music,  to  unite  them  all  by  giving  each  back  to  himself. 

Unexpectedly  the  count  increased  the  party  :  intending  to 
remove  his  lady,  and,  as  it  appeared,  to  take  a  solemn  fare- 
well of  his  worldly  friends.  Jarno  hastened  to  the  coach 
to  meet  him :  the  count  inquired  what  guests  they  had ;  to 
which  the  other  answered,  in  a  fit  of  wild  humor  that  would 
often  seize  him,  "  We  have  all  the  nobility  in  nature, — mar- 
cheses,  marquises,  milords,  and  barons :  we  wanted  nothing 
but  a  count."  They  came  up-stairs :  Wilhelm  was  the  first 
who  met  them  in  the  ante-chamber.  "Milord,"  said  the 
count  to  him  in  French,  after  looking  at  him  for  a  moment, 
"  I  rejoice  very  much  in  the  unexpected  pleasure  of  renewing 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  89 

my  acquaintance  with  your  lordship :  I  am  very  much  mis- 
taken if  I  did  not  see  you  at  my  castle  in  the  prince's  suite." 
"  I  had  the  happiness  of  waiting  on  your  Excellence  at  that 
time,"  answered  Wilhelm ;  "  but  you  do  me  too  much  honor 
when  you  take  me  for  an  Englishman,  and  that  of  the  first 
quality.  I  am  a  German,  and" —  "And  a  fine  young 
fellow,"  interrupted  Jarno.  The  count  looked  at  Wilhelm 
with  a  smile,  and  was  about  to  make  some  reply,  when  the 
rest  of  the  party  entered,  and  saluted  him  with  many  a 
friendly  welcome.  They  excused  themselves  for  being  unable 
at  the  moment  to  show  him  to  a  proper  chamber,  promising 
without  delay  to  make  the  necessary  room  for  him. 

"Ay,  ay  !  "  said  he,  smiling:  "we  have  left  Chance,  I 
see,  to  act  as  our  purveyor.  Yet  with  prudence  and  arrange- 
ment, how  much  is  possible  !  For  the  present  I  entreat  you 
not  to  stir  a  slipper  from  its  place  :  the  disorder,  I  perceive, 
would  otherwise  be  great.  Every  one  would  be  uncomfort- 
ably lodged ;  and  this  no  one  shall  be  on  my  account,  if 
possible,  not  even  for  an  hour.  You  can  testify,"  said  he 
to  Jarno,  "  and  you,  too,  Meister,"  turning  to  Wilhelm, 
"  how  many  people  I  commodiously  stowed  that  time  in  my 
castle.  Let  me  have  the  list  of  persons  and  servants  ;  let  me 
see  how  they  are  lodged  at  present :  I  will  make  a  plan  of 
dislocation,  such  that,  with  the  very  smallest  inconvenience, 
every  one  shall  find  a  suitable  apartment ;  and  there  shall  be 
room  enough  to  hold  another  guest  if  one  should  accidentally 
arrive." 

Jarno  at  once  offered  the  count  his  assistance,  procured 
him  all  the  necessary  information ;  taking  great  delight,  as 
usual,  if  he  could  now  and  then  contrive  to  lead  him  astray, 
and  leave  him  in  awkward  difficulties.  The  old  gentleman 
at  last,  however,  gained  a  signal  triumph.  The  arrangement 
was  completed :  he  caused  the  names  to  be  written  on  their 
several  doors,  himself  attending  ;  and  it  could  not  be  denied, 
that,  by  a  very  few  changes  and  substitutions,  the  object  had 
been  fully  gained.  Jarno,  among  other  things,  had  also  man- 
aged, that  the  persons  who  at  present  took  an  interest  in  each 
other  should  be  lodged  together. 

"  Will  you  help  me,"  said  the  count  to  Jarno,  after  every 
thing  was  settled,  "  to  clear  up  my  recollections  of  the  young 
man  there,  whom  you  call  Meister,  and  who  you  tell  me  is  a 
German?"  Jarno  was  silent;  for  he  knew  very  well  that 
the  count  was  one  of  those  people  who,  in  asking  questions, 
merely  wish  to  show  their  knowledge.  The  count,  accord- 


90  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

ingly,  continued,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  You,  I 
recollect,  presented  him  to  me,  and  warmly  recommended 
him  in  the  prince's  name.  If  his  mother  was  a  German 
woman,  I  '11  be  bound  for  it  his  father  is  an  Englishman,  and 
one  of  rank  too :  who  can  calculate  the  English  blood  that 
has  been  flowing  these  last  thirty  years  in  German  veins ! 
I  will  not  insist  on  knowing  more  :  I  know  you  have  alwaj-s 
family  secrets  of  that  kind,  but  in  such  cases  it  is  in  vain  to 
think  of  cheating  me."  He  then  proceeded  to  detail  a  great 
variety  of  things  as  having  taken  place  with  Wilhelm  at  the 
castle,  to  the  whole  of  which  Jamo,  as  before,  made  no 
reply ;  though  the  count  was  altogether  in  the  wrong,  con- 
founding Wilhelm  more  than  once  with  a  young  Englishman 
of  the  prince's  suite.  The  truth  was,  the  good  old  gentle- 
man had  in  former  years  possessed  a  very  excellent  memory, 
and  was  still  proud  of  being  able  to  remember  the  minutest 
circumstances  of  his  youth  ;  but,  in  regard  to  late  occurrences, 
he  used  to  settle  in  his  mind  as  true,  and  utter  with  the 
greatest  certainty,  whatever  fables  and  fantastic  combinations, 
in  the  growing  weakness  of  his  powers,  imagination  might 
present  to  him.  For  the  rest,  he  was  become  extremely  mild 
and  courteous :  his  presence  had  a  very  favorable  influence 
upon  the  company.  He  would  call  on  them  to  read  some 
useful  book  together ;  nay,  he  often  gave  them  little  games, 
which,  without  participating  in  them,  he  directed  with  the 
greatest  care.  If  they  wondered  at  his  condescension,  he 
would  reply,  that  it  became  a  man  who  differed  from  the 
world  in  weighty  matters  to  conform  to  it  the  more  anxiously 
in  matters  of  indifference. 

In  these  games  our  friend  had,  more  than  once,  an  angry 
and  unquiet  feeling  to  endure.  Friedrich,  with  his  usual 
levity,  took  frequent  opportunity  of  giving  hints  that  Wilhelm 
entertained  a  secret  passion  for  Natalia.  How  could  he 
have  found  it  out  ?  What  entitled  him  to  say  so  ?  And 
would  not  his  friends  think,  that,  as  they  two  were  often  to- 
gether, Wilhelm  must  have  made  a  disclosure  to  him,  —  so 
thoughtless  and  unlucky  a  disclosure  ? 

One  day,  while  they  were  merrier  than  common  at  some 
such  joke,  Augustin,  dashing  up  the  door,  rushed  in  with 
a  frightful  look ;  his  countenance  was  pale,  his  eyes  were 
wild ;  he  seemed  about  to  speak,  but  his  tongue  refused  its 
office.  The  party  were  astounded :  Lothario  and  Jarno,  sup- 
posing that  his  madness  had  returned,  sprang  up  and  seized 
him.  With  a  choked  and  faltering  voice,  then  loudly  and 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  91 

violently,  he  spoke,  and  cried,  "  Not  me !  Haste !  Help ! 
Save  the  child !  Felix  is  poisoned !  ' ' 

They  let  him  go ;  he  hastened  through  the  door :  all  fol- 
lowed him  in  consternation.  They  called  the  doctor;  Au- 
gustin  made  for  the  abbe's  chamber ;  they  found  the  child, 
who  seemed  amazed  and  frightened,  when  they  called  to  him 
from  a  distance,  "  What  hast  thou  been  doing?  " 

"  Dear  papa  !  "  cried  Felix,  "  I  did  not  drink  from  the 
bottle,  I  drank  from  the  glass  :  I  was  very  thirsty." 

Augustin  struck  his  hands  together :  "  He  is  lost !  "  cried 
he,  then  pressed  through  the  by-standers,  and  hastened 
away. 

They  found  a  glass  of  almond-milk  upon  the  table,  with  a 
bottle  near  it  more  than  half  empty.  The  doctor  came,  was 
told  what  they  had  seen  and  heard :  with  horror  he  observed 
the  well-known  laudanum-vial  lying  empty  on  the  table. 
He  called  for  vinegar :  he  summoned  all  his  art  to  his  assist- 
ance. 

Natalia  had  the  little  patient  taken  to  a  room  :  she  busied 
herself  with  painful  care  about  him.  The  abbe  had  run  out 
to  seek  Augustin,  and  draw  some  explanation  from  him. 
The  unhappy  father  had  been  out  upon  the  same  endeavor, 
but  in  vain :  he  returned,  to  find  anxiety  and  fear  on  every 
face.  The  doctor,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  examining 
the  almond-milk  in  the  glass  ;  he  found  it  to  contain  a  pow- 
erful mixture  of  opium :  the  child  was  lying  on  the  sofa, 
seeming  very  sick ;  he  begged  his  father  ' '  not  to  let  them 
pour  more  stuff  into  him,  not  to  let  them  plague  him  any 
more."  Lothario  had  sent  his  people,  and  had  ridden  off 
himself,  endeavoring  to  find  some  trace  of  Augustin.  Na- 
talia sat  beside  the  child ;  he  took  refuge  in  her  lap,  and 
entreated  earnestly  for  her  protection,  earnestly  for  a  little 
piece  of  sugar:  the  vinegar,  he  said,  was  biting  sour.  The 
doctor  granted  his  request ;  the  child  was  in  a  frightful  agi- 
tation ;  they  were  obliged  to  let  him  have  a  moment's  rest. 
The  doctor  said  that  every  means  had  been  adopted :  he 
would  continue  to  do  his  utmost.  The  count  came  near, 
with  an  air  of  displeasure ;  his  look  was  earnest,  even  sol- 
emn ;  he  laid  his  hands  upon  the  child,  turned  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  remained  some  moments  in  that  attitude.  Wil- 
helm,  who  was  lying  inconsolable  on  a  seat,  sprang  up,  and, 
casting  a  despairing  look  at  Natalia,  left  the  room.  Shortly 
afterwards  the  count,  too,  left  it. 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  said  the  doctor,  having  paused  a 


92  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

little,  "  how  it  comes  that  there  is  not  the  smallest  trace  of 
danger  visible  about  the  child.  At  a  single  gulp  he  must 
have  swallowed  an  immense  dose  of  opium  ;  yet  I  find  no 
movement  in  his  pulse  but  what  may  be  ascribed  to  our  rem- 
edies, and  to  the  terror  we  have  put  him  into. ' ' 

In  a  few  minutes  Jarno  entered,  with  intelligence  that 
Augustin  had  been  discovered  in  the  upper  story,  lying  in  his 
blood  :  a  razor  had  been  found  beside  him  ;  to  all  appearance 
he  had  cut  his  throat.  The  doctor  hastened  out :  he  met  the 
people  carrying  down  the  body.  The  unhappy  man  was  laid 
upon  a  bed,  and  accurately  examined  :  the  cut  had  gone 
across  the  windpipe ;  a  copious  loss  of  blood  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  a  swoon  ;  yet  it  was  easy  to  observe  that  life,  that 
hope,  was  still  there.  The  doctor  put  the  body  in  a  proper 
posture,  joined  the  edges  of  the  wound,  and  bandaged  it. 
The  night  passed  sleepless  and  full  of  care  to  all.  Felix 
would  not  quit  Natalia ;  Wilhelm  sat  before  her  on  a  stool ; 
he  had  the  boy's  feet  upon  his  lap  ;  the  head  and  breast  were 
lying  upon  hers.  Thus  did  they  divide  the  pleasing  burden 
and  the  painful  anxiety,  and  continue,  till  the  day  broke,  in 
their  uncomfortable,  sad  position.  Natalia  had  given  her 
hand  to  Wilhelm  ;  they  did  not  speak  a  word ;  they  looked 
at  the  child,  and  then  at  one  another.  Lothario  and  Jarno 
were  sitting  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  carrying  on  a 
most  important  conversation,  —  which,  did  not  the  pressure 
of  events  forbid  us,  we  would  gladly  lay  before  our  readers. 
The  boy  slept  softly :  he  awoke  quite  cheerful  early  in  the 
morning,  and  demanded  a  piece  of  broad  and  butter. 

So  soon  as  Augustin  had  in  some  degree  recovered,  they 
endeavored  to  obtain  some  explanation  from  him.  They 
learned  with  difficulty,  and  by  slow  degrees,  that  having,  by 
the  count's  unlucky  shifting,  been  appointed  to  the  same 
chamber  with  the  abbe,  he  had  found  the  manuscript  in 
which  his  story  was  recorded.  Struck  with  horror  on  perus- 
ing it,  he  felt  that  it  was  now  impossible  for  him  to  live,  on 
which  he  had  recourse,  as  usual,  to  the  laudanum :  this  he 
poured  into  a  glass  of  almond-milk,  and  raised  it  to  his 
mouth  ;  but  he  shuddered  when  it  reached  his  lips  :  he  set  it 
down  untasted,  went  out  to  walk  once  more  across  the  gar- 
den, and  behold  the  face  of  nature ;  and,  on  his  return,  he 
found  the  child  employed  in  filling  up  the  glass  out  of  which 
it  had  been  drinking. 

They  entreated  the  unhappy  creature  to  be  calm  :  he  seized 
Wilhelm  by  the  hand  with  a  spasmodic  grasp,  and  cried, 


MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP.  93 

"  Ah !  why  did  I  not  leave  thee  long  ago?  I  knew  well  that 
I  should  kill  the  boy,  and  he  me."  —  "  The  boy  lives  !  "  said 
Wilhelm.  The  doctor,  who  had  listened  with  attention,  now 
inquired  of  Augustin  if  all  the  drink  was  poisoned.  "  No," 
replied  he,  "nothing  but  the  glass."  —  "  By  the  luckiest 
chance,  then,"  cried  the  doctor,  "  the  boy  has  drunk  from 
the  bottle !  A  benignant  genius  has  guided  his  hand,  that 
he  did  not  catch  at  death,  which  stood  so  near  and  ready  for 
him."  —  "  No,  no  !  "  cried  Wilhelm,  with  a  groan,  and  dap- 
pling both  his  hands  upon  his  eyes.  "  How  dreadful  are  the 
words !  Felix  said  expressly  that  he  drank,  not  from  the 
bottle,  but  the  glass.  His  health  is  but  a  show  :  he  will  die 
among  our  hands."  Wilhelm  hastened  out :  the  doctor  went 
below,  and  taking  Felix  up,  with  much  caressing,  asked, 
"  Now,  did  not  you,  my  pretty  boy?  You  drank  from  the 
bottle,  not  the  glass?"  The  child  began  to  cry.  The  doc- 
tor secretly  informed  Natalia  how  the  matter  stood :  she  also 
strove  in  vain  to  get  the  truth  from  Felix,  who  but  cried  the 
more,  —  cried  till  he  fell  asleep. 

Wilhelm  watched  by  him  :  the  night  went  peacefully  away. 
Next  morning  Augustin  was  found  lying  dead  in  bed :  he 
had  cheated  his  attendants  by  a  seeming  rest,  had  silently 
loosened  the  bandages,  and  bled  to  death.  Natalia  went  to 
walk  with  Felix :  he  was  sportful  as  in  his  happiest  days. 
"You  are  always  good  to  me,"  said  Felix,  "you  never 
scold,  you  never  beat,  me :  I  will  tell  you  the  truth,  I  did 
drink  from  the  bottle.  Mamma  Aurelia  used  to  rap  me  over 
the  fingers  every  time  I  touched  the  bottle  :  father  looked  so 
sour,  I  thought  he  would  beat  me." 

With  winged  steps  Natalia  hastened  to  the  castle :  Wil- 
helm came,  still  overwhelmed  with  care,  to  meet  her.  "  Hap- 
py father  !  "  cried  she,  lifting  up  the  child,  and  throwing  it 
into  his  arms:  "there  is  thy  son  again!  He  drank  from 
the  bottle :  his  naughtiness  has  saved  him." 

They  told  the  count  the  happy  issue  ;  but  he  listened  with 
a  smiling,  silent,  modest  air  of  knowingness,  like  one  tolerat- 
ing the  error  of  worthy  men.  Jarno,  attentive  to  all,  could 
not  exulain  this  lofty  self-complacency,  till,  after  many 
windings,  he  at  last  discovered  it  to  be  his  lordship's  firm 
belief,  that  the  child  had  really  taken  poison,  and  that  he 
himself,  by  prayer  and  the  laying  on  of  hands,  had  miracu- 
lously counteracted  the  effects  of  it.  After  such  a  feat,  his 
lordship  now  determined  on  departing.  Every  thing,  as  usual 
with  him,  was  made  ready  in  a  moment :  the  fair  countess, 


94  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP 

when  about  to  go,  took  Wilhelm's  hand  before  parting  with 
her  sister's  ;  she  then  pressed  both  their  hands  between  her 
own,  turned  quickly  round,  and  stepped  into  the  carriage. 

So  many  terrible  and  strange  events,  crowding  one  upon 
the  back  of  another,  inducing  an  unusual  mode  of  life,  and 
putting  every  thing  into  disorder  and  perplexity,  had  brought 
a  sort  of  feverish  movement  into  all  departments  of  the 
house.  The  hours  of  sleep  and  waking,  of  eating,  drinking, 
and  social  conversation,  were  inverted.  Except  Theresa, 
none  of  them  had  kept  in  their  accustomed  course.  The  men 
endeavored,  by  increased  potations,  to  recover  their  good- 
humor  ;  and,  thus  communicating  to  themselves  an  artificial 
vivacity,  they  drove  away  that  natural  vivacity  which  alone 
imparts  to  us  true  cheerfulness,  and  strength  for  action. 

Wilhelm,  in  particular,  was  moved  and  agitated  by  the 
keenest  feelings.  Those  unexpected,  frightful  incidents  had 
thrown  him  out  of  all  condition  to  resist  a  passion  which  had 
so  forcibly  seized  his  heart.  Felix  was  restored  to  him,  yet 
still  it  seemed  that  he  had  nothing :  Werner's  letters,  the 
directions  for  his  journey,  were  in  readiness  ;  there  was  noth- 
ing wanting  but  the  resolution  to  remove.  Every  thing  con- 
spired to  hasten  him.  He  could  not  but  conjecture  that 
Lothario  and  Theresa  were  awaiting  his  departure,  that  they 
might  be  wedded.  Jarno  was  unusually  silent :  you  would 
have  said  that  he  had  lost  a  portion  of  his  customary  cheer- 
fulness. Happily  the  doctor  helped  our  friend,  in  some  de- 
gree, from  this  embarrassment :  he  declared  him  sick,  and 
set  about  administering  medicine  to  him. 

The  company  assembled  always  in  the  evening :  Friedrich, 
the  wild  madcap,  who  usually  drank  more  wine  than  was 
meet,  took  possession  of  the  talk,  and  by  a  thousand  frolic- 
some citations,  fantasies,  and  waggish  allusions,  often  kept 
the  party  laughing,  often,  also,  threw  them  into  awkward 
difficulties,  by  the  liberty  he  took  to  think  aloud. 

In  the  sickness  of  his  friend  he  seemed  to  have  little  faith. 
Once,  when  they  were  all  together,  "  Pray,  doctor,"  cried  he, 
"  how  is  it  you  call  the  malady  our  friend  is  laboring  under? 
Will  none  of  the  three  thousand  names  with  which  YOU  deco- 
rate your  ignorance  apply  to  it?  The  disease  at  least  is 
not  without  examples.  There  is  one  such  case,"  continued 
he,  with  an  emphatic  tone,  "  in  the  Egyptian  or  Babylonian 
history." 

The  company  looked  at  one  another,  and  smiled. 

"What  call  you  the  king?" —    cried  he,  and   stopped 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  95 

short  a  moment.  "  "Well,  if  you  will  not  help  me,  I  must 
help  myself."  He  threw  the  door-leaves  up,  and  pointed  to 
the  large  picture  in  the  ante-chamber.  "  What  call  you  the 
goat-beard  there,  with  the  crown  on,  who  is  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  making  such  a  rueful  face  about  his  sick  son  ? 
How  call  yon  the  beauty  who  enters,  and  in  her  modest, 
roguish  eyes,  at  once  brings  poison  and  antidote  ?  How  call 
you  the  quack  of  a  doctor,  who  at  this  moment  catches  a 
glimpse  of  the  reality,  and,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  takes 
occasion  to  prescribe  a  reasonable  recipe,  to  give  a  drug  which 
cures  to  the  very  heart,  and  is  at  once  salutiferous  and 
savory?  " 

In  this  manner  he  continued  babbling.  The  company 
took  it  with  as  good  a  face  as  might  be,  hiding  their  embar- 
rassment behind  a  forced  laugh.  A  slight  blush  overspread 
Natalia's  cheeks,  and  betrayed  the  movements  of  her  heart. 
By  good  fortune  she  was  walking  up  and  down  with  Jarno : 
on  coming  to  the  door,  with  a  cunning  motion  she  slipped 
out,  walked  once  or  twice  across  the  ante-chamber,  and  re- 
tired to  her  room. 

The  company  were  silent :  Friedrich  began  to  dance  and 
sing,  — 

"  Wonders  will  ye  see  anon! 
Whatsoever' s  done  is  done, 
Said's  whatever's  said:  straightway, 
E'er't  be  day, 
Wonders  will  be  shown." 

—  Editor's  version. 

Theresa  had  gone  out  to  find  Natalia  :  Friedrich  pulled  the 
doctor  forward  to  the  picture,  pronounced  a  ridiculous  eulo- 
gium  on  medicine,  and  glided  from  the  room. 

Lothario  had  been  standing  all  the  while  in  the  recess  of  a 
window  :  he  was  looking,  without  motion,  down  into  the  gar- 
den. Wilhelm  was  in  the  most  dreadful  state.  Left  alone 
with  his  friend,  he  still  kept  silence  for  a  time  ;  he  ran  with 
a  hurried  glance  over  all  his  history,  and  at  last,  with  shud- 
dering, surveyed  his  present  situation  :  he  started  up,  and 
cried,  "If  I  am  to  blame  for  what  is  happening,  for  what 
you  and  I  are  suffering,  punish  me.  In  addition  to  m}'  other 
miseries,  deprive  me  of  your  friendship,  and  let  me  wander, 
without  comfort,  forth  into  the  wide  world,  in  which  I  should 
have  mingled,  and  withdrawn  myself  from  notice,  long  ago. 
But  if  you  see  in  me  the  victim  of  a  cruel  entanglement  of 
chance,  out  of  which  I  could  not  thread  my  way,  then  give 


96  MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP. 

me  the  assurance  of  your  love,  of  your  friendship,  on  a 
journey  which  I  dare  not  now  postpone.  A  time  will  come 
when  I  may  tell  you  what  has  passed  of  late  within  me. 
Perhaps  this  is  but  a  punishment  which  I  am  suffering, 
because  I  did  not  soon  enough  disclose  myself  to  you,  be- 
cause I  hesitated  to  display  nrvself  entirely  as  I  was  :  you 
would  have  assisted  me,  you  would  have  helped  me  out  in 
proper  season.  Again  and  again  have  my  eyes  been  opened 
to  my  conduct ;  but  it  was  ever  too  late,  it  was  ever  in  vain  ! 
How  richly  do  I  merit  Jarno's  censure  !  I  imagined  I  had 
seized  it :  how  firmly  did  I  purpose  to  employ  it,  to  com- 
mence another  life!  Could  I,  might  I,  have  done  so?  It 
avails  not  for  mortals  to  complain  of  fate  or  of  themselves. 
We  are  wretched,  and  appointed  for  wretchedness  ;  and  what 
does  it  matter  whether  blame  of  ours,  higher  influence  or 
chance,  virtue  or  vice,  wisdom  or  folly,  plunge  us  into  ruin? 
Farewell !  I  will  not  stay  another  moment  in  a  house  where  I 
have  so  fearfully  violated  the  rights  of  hospitality.  Your 
brother's  indiscretion  is  unpardonable  :  it  aggravates  my  suf- 
fering to  the  highest  pitch,  it  drives  me  to  despair." 

"And  what,"  replied  Lothario,  taking  \Vilhelm  by  the 
hand,  "  what  if  your  alliance  with  my  sister  were  the  secret 
article  on  which  depended  my  alliance  with  Theresa?  This 
amends  that  noble  maiden  has  appointed  for  you :  she  has 
vowed  that  these  two  pairs  should  appear  together  at  the 
altar.  '  His  reason  has  made  choice  of  me, ''said  she  ;  '  his 
heart  demands  Natalia :  my  reason  shall  assist  his  heart. ' 
We  agreed  to  keep  our  eyes  upon  Natalia  and  yourself :  we 
told  the  abb6  of  our  plan,  who  made  us  promise  not  to 
intermeddle  with  this  union,  or  attempt  to  forward  it,  but 
to  suffer  every  thing  to  take  its  course.  We  have  done  so : 
Nature  has  performed  her  part ;  our  mad  brother  only  shook 
the  ripe  fruit  from  the  branch.  And  now,  since  we  have 
come  together  so  unusualby,  let  us  lead  no  common  life  :  let 
us  work  together  in  a  noble  manner,  and  for  noble  purposes ! 
It  is  inconceivable  how  much  a  man  of  true  culture  can  ac- 
complish fon  himself  and  others,  if,  without  attempting  to 
rule,  he  can  be  the  guardian  over  many ;  can  induce  them 
to  do  that  in  season  which  the}7  are  at  any  rate  disposed 
enough  to  do  ;  can  guide  them  to  their  objects,  which  in  gen- 
eral they  see  with  due  distinctness,  though  they  miss  the 
road  to  them.  Let  us  make  a  league  for  this :  it  is  no 
enthusiasm,  but  an  idea  which  may  be  fully  executed,  which, 
indeed,  is  often  executed,  only  with  imperfect  consciousness, 


MEISTER'S   APPRENTICESHIP.  97 

by  people  of  benevolence  and  worth.  Natalia  is  a  living 
instance  of  it.  No  other  need  attempt  to  rival  the  plan  of 
conduct  which  has  been  prescribed  by  Nature  for  that  pure 
and  noble  soul." 

He  had  more  to  say,  but  Friedrich  with  a  shout  came 
jumping  in.  "  What  a  garland  have  I  earned  !  "  cried  he  : 
"  how  will  you  reward  me?  Myrtle,  laurel,  ivy,  leaves  of 
oak,  the  freshest  you  can  find,  come  twist  them :  I  have 
merits  far  beyond  them  all.  Natalia  is  thine !  I  am  the 
conjurer  who  raised  this  treasure  for  thee." 

'•  He  raves,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "I  must  go." 

"Art  thou  empowered  to  speak?"  inquired  Lothario, 
holding  Wilhelm  from  retiring. 

"By  my  own  authority,"  said  Friedrich,  "  and  the  grace 
of  God.  It  was  thus  I  was  the  wooer,  thus  I  am  the  mes- 
senger :  I  listened  at  the  door ;  she  told  the  abb6  every 
thing." 

"  Barefaced  rogue  !  who  bade  thee  listen?  "  said  Lothario. 

"Who  bade  her  bolt  the  door?"  cried  Friedrich.  "  I 
heard  it  all :  she  was  in  a  wondrous  pucker.  In  the  night 
when  Felix  seemed  so  ill,  and  was  lying  half  upon  her  knees, 
and  thou  wert  sitting  comfortless  before  her,  sharing  the 
beloved  load,  she  made  a  vow,  that,  if  the  child  died,  she 
would  confess  her  love  to  thee,  and  offer  thee  her  hand. 
And  now,  when  the  child  lives,  why  should  she  change  her 
mind?  What  we  promise  under  such  conditions,  we  keep 
under  any.  Nothing  wanting  but  the  parson !  He  will 
come,  and  marvel  what  strange  news  he  brings." 

The  abb6  entered.  "We  know  it  all,"  cried  Friedrich: 
"be  as  brief  as  possible;  it  is  mere  formality  you  come 
for,  —  they  never  send  for  you  or  me  on  any  other  score." 

"He  has  listened,"  said  the  baron.  "Scandalous!" 
exclaimed  the  abb£. 

"  Now,  quick  !  "  said  Friedrich.  "  How  stands  it  with  the 
ceremonies  ?  These  we  can  reckon  on  our  fingers.  You 
must  travel :  the  marchese's  invitation  answers  to  a  hair's- 
breadth.  If  we  had  you  once  beyond  the  Alps,  it  will  all  be 
right :  the  people  are  obliged  to  you  for  undertaking  any 
thing  surprising ;  you  procure  them  an  amusement  which 
they  are  not  called  to  pay  for.  It  is  as  if  you  gave  a  free 
ball:  all  ranks  partake  in  it." 

"In  such  popular  festivities,"  replied  the  abbe",  "you 
have  done  the  public  much  service  in  your  time  ;  but  to-day, 
it  seems,  you  will  not  let  me  speak  at  all." 


98  MEISTER'S  APPRENTICESHIP. 

"If  it  is  not  just  as  I  have  told  it,"  answered  Friedrich, 
"  let  us  have  it  better.  Come  round,  come  round :  we  must 
see  them  both  together." 

Lothario  embraced  his  friend,  and  led  him  to  Natalia, 
who,  with  Theresa,  came  to  meet  them.  All  were  silent. 

"No  loitering!"  cried  Friedrich.  "In  two  days  you 
may  be  ready  for  your  travels.  Now,  think  you,  friend," 
continued  he,  addressing  Wilhelm,  "when  we  first  scraped 
acquaintance,  and  I  asked  you  for  the  pretty  nosegay,  who 
could  have  supposed  you  were  ever  to  receive  a  flower  like 
this  from  me  ?  ' ' 

"  Do  not,  at  the  moment  of  my  highest  happiness,  remind 
me  of  those  times  !  " 

"  Of  which  you  need  not  be  ashamed,  any  more  than  one 
need  be  ashamed  of  his  descent.  The  times  were  very  good 
times :  only  I  cannot  but  laugh  to  look  at  thee ;  to  my  mind 
thou  resemblest  Saul  the  son  of  Kish,  who  went  out  to  seek 
his  father's  asses,  and  found  a  kingdom." 

"  I  know  not  the  worth  of  a  kingdom,"  answerd  Wilhelm  ; 
' '  but  I  know  I  have  attained  a  happiness  which  I  have  not 
deserved,  and  which  I  would  not  change  with  any  thing  in 
life." 


MEISTEE'S    TRAVELS ; 

OB, 

THE  RENUNCIANTS. 


To  travel  now  the  Apprentice  does  essay, 
And  every  step  is  girt  with  doubt  and  danger : 
In  truth,  he  uses  not  to  sing  or  pray; 
But,  is  his  path  perplexed,  this  toilsome  ranger 
Does  turn  an  earnest  eye,  when  mist's  above  him, 
To  his  own  heart,  and  to  the  hearts  that  love  him. 

99 


SCAKCE  could  tell  you  rightly 

Whether  I'm  the  same  or  not, 
If  you  task  me  very  tightly: 

Yes,  this  is  my  sense  you've  got,  - 
Sense  that  vexes,  then  assuages, 

Now  too  light,  and  now  too  dark, 
But  in  some  few  hundred  pages 

May  again  come  to  the  mark. 
100 


DOES  Fortune  try  thee  ?    She  had  cause  to  do't: 
She  wished  thee  temperate;  obey,  be  mute! 

What,  shap'st  thou  here  at  the  world!  'tis  shapen  long  ago; 

The  Maker  shaped  it,  he  thought  it  best  even  so  : 

Thy  lot  is  appointed,  go  follow  its  hest; 

Thy  way  is  begun,  thou  must  walk,  and  not  rest; 

For  sorrow  and  care  cannot  alter  thy  case ; 

And  running,  not  raging,  will  win  thee  the  race. 

Enweri  tells  us,  a  most  royal  man, 

The  deepest  heart  and  highest  head  to  scan: 

"  In  every  place,  at  every  time,  thy  surest  cnance 

Lies  in  decision,  justice,  tolerance." 

My  inheritance,  how  wide  and  fair! 
Time  is  my  estate:  to  time  I'm  heir. 

Now  it  is  day:  be  doing,  every  one; 

For  the  night  cometh,  wherein  work  can  none. 

101 


AKB  so  I,  in  Tale  adjoining, 
Lift  old  treasures  into  day; 
If  not  gold  or  perfect  coining, 
They  are  metals  any  way : 
Thou  canst  sort  them,  thou  canst  sunder, 
Thou  canst  melt  and  make  them  one ; 
Then  take  that  with  smiling  wonder, 
Stamp  it  like  thyself,  my  son. 
102 


MEISTEK'S  TEAVELS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   FLIGHT   INTO   EGYPT. 

"WiLHELM  was  sitting  under  the  shadow  of  a  huge  crag,  on 
a  shaggy,  impressive  spot,  where  the  steep  mountain  path 
turned  abruptly  round  a  corner,  down  into  the  chasm.  The 
sun  was  still  high,  and  brightening  the  tops  of  the  pine-trees 
in  the  clefts  at  his  feet.  He  was  looking  at  something  in 
his  note-book,  when  Felix,  who  had  been  clambering  about, 
came  to  him  with  a  stone  in  his  hand.  "  What  is  the  name 
of  this  stone,  father?  "  said  the  boy. 

"  I  know  not,"  answered  Wilhelm. 

"  Can  this  be  gold  that  glitters  in  it  so?  "  said  Felix. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  Wilhelm ;  "  and  now  I  remember,  peo- 
ple call  it  mica,  or  cat-gold." 

"  Cat-gold !  "  said  the  boy,  smiling.    "  And  why?  " 

"  I  suppose,  because  it  is  false,  and  cats  are  reckoned 
false  too." 

"  Well,  I  will  note  that,"  said  the  son,  and  put  in  the 
stone  beside  the  rest  with  which  he  had  already  filled  his 
pockets. 

Scarcely  was  this  over  when,  adown  the  steep  path,  a 
strange  enough  appearance  came  in  sight.  Two  boys,  beau- 
tiful as  day,  in  colored  jackets  which  you  might  have  taken, 
for  outer  shirts,  came  bounding  down,  one  after  the  other; 
and  Wilhelm  had  opportunity  of  viewing  them  more  cjosety, 
as  they  faltered  on  observing  him,  and  stopped  for  a  mo-: 
ment.  Round  the  elder  boy's  head  waved  rich,  fair  locks, 
which  you  looked  at  first,  on  observing  him ;  and  then  his, 

103 


104  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

clear  blue  eyes  attracted  your  attention,  which  spread  itself 
with  delight  over  his  beautiful  shape.  The  younger,  more 
like  a  friend  than  a  brother,  was  decked  with  brown,  sleek 
hair,  which  hung  down  over  his  shoulders,  and  the  reflection 
of  which  appeared  to  be  imaged  in  his  eyes. 

These  strange,  and,  in  this  wilderness,  quite  unexpected, 
beings,  Wilhelm  had  not  time  to  view  more  narrowly  ;  for  he 
heard  a  man's  voice  calling  down  round  the  corner  of  the 
crag,  in  a  serious,  but  friendly,  tone,  "Why  do  you  stand 
still?  Don't  stop  the  way." 

Wilhelm  looked  upwards ;  and,  if  the  children  had  sur- 
prised him,  what  he  now  saw  filled  him  with  astonishment. 
A  stout,  firm-set,  not  too  tall,  young  man,  tucked  up  for 
walking,  of  brown  complexion  and  black  hair,  was  stepping 
firmly  and  carefully  down  the  rock- way,  and  leading  an  ass 
behind  him,  which  first  presented  its  glossy,  well-trimmed 
head,  and  then  the  fair  burden  it  bore.  A  soft,  lovely  woman 
was  seated  on  a  large  and  well-pannelled  saddle  :  in  her  arms, 
within  a  blue  mantle  which  hung  over  her,  lay  an  infant,  which 
she  was  pressing  to  her  breast,  and  looking  at  with  indescriba- 
ble tenderness.  The  man  did  as  the  children  had  done,  — 
faltered  for  a  moment  at  sight  of  Wilhelm.  The  beast  slack- 
ened its  step,  but  the  descent  was  too  precipitous  :  the  trav- 
ellers could  not  halt ;  and  Wilhelm  with  astonishment  saw 
them  vanish  behind  the  contiguous  wall  of  rocks. 

Nothing  was  more  natural  than  that  this  singular  procession 
should  cut  short  his  meditations.  He  rose  in  no  small  curi- 
osity, and  looked  from  his  position  towards  the  chasm,  to 
see  whether  they  would  not  again  make  their  appearance 
somewhere  below.  He  was  just  about  descending  to  salute 
these  strange  travellers,  when  Felix  came  climbing  up,  and 
said,  "Father,  may  I  not  go  home  with  these  boj's  to  their 
house  ?  They  want  to  take  me  with  them.  Thou  must  go 
too,  the  man  said  to  me.  Come !  They  are  waiting  down 
there." 

"  I  will  speak  with  them,"  answered  Wilhelm. 

He  found  them  at  a  place  where  the  path  was  more  level, 
and  he  could  not  but  gaze  in  wonder  at  the  singular  figures 
which  had  so  strongly  attracted  his  attention.  Not  till  now 
had  it  been  in  his  power  to  note  the  peculiarities  of  the  group. 
The  young,  stout  man,  he  found,  had  a  joiner's  axe  on  his 
shoulder,  and  a  long,  thin  iron  square.  The  children  bore 
in  their  hands  large  sedge-tufts,  like  palms ;  and  if,  in  this 
point,  they  resembled  angels,  they  likewise  carried  little  bas- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  105 

kets  with  shop-wares  in  them,  thereby  resembling  the  little 
daily  posts,  as  they  pass  to  and  fro  over  the  mountains.  The 
mother  also,  he  observed,  on  looking  more  leisurely,  wore 
under  her  blue  mantle  a  reddish,  mild-colored,  lower  garment : 
so  that  "  The  Flight  into  Egypt,"  which  our  friend  had  so 
often  seen  painted,  he  now,  with  amazement,  saw  bodied 
forth  before  his  eyes. 

The  strangers  exchanged  salutations ;  and  as  "Wilhelm, 
from  surprise  and  attention,  could  not  speak,  the  young  man 
said,  "Our  children  have  formed  a  friendship  in  these  few 
moments.  Will  you  go  with  us  to  see  whether  some  kind 
relation  will  not  spring  up  between  the  elder  parties  also?  " 

Wilhelrn  bethought  himself  an  instant,  and  then  answered, 
"  The  aspect  of  your  little  family  procession  awakens  trust 
and  good  will,  and,  to  confess  it  frankly,  curiosity  no  less, 
and  a  lively  desire  to  be  better  acquainted  with  you.  For, 
at  the  first  glance,  one  might  ask  himself  the  question, 
"Whether  you  are  real  travellers,  or  only  spirits  that  take 
pleasure  in  enlivening  these  uninhabitable  mountains  by 
pleasant  visions  ? ' ' 

"  Then,  come  home  with  us  to  our  dwelling,"  said  the  other. 
"  Come  with  us  !  "  cried  the  children,  already  drawing  Felix 
along  with  them.  "  Come  with  us  !  "  said  the  woman,  turn- 
ing her  soft  kindliness  from  the  suckling  to  the  stranger. 

Without  reflecting,  Wilhelm  answered,  "  I  am  sorry,  that, 
for  the  present  moment,  I  cannot  follow  you.  This  night,  at 
least,  I  must  spend  up  at  the  Border-house.  My  portman- 
teau, my  papers,  —  all  is  lying  up  there,  unpacked,  intrusted 
to  no  one.  But,  that  I  may  prove  my  wish  and  purpose  to 
satisfy  your  friendly  invitation,  take  my  Felix  with  you  as  a 
pledge.  To-morrow  I  shall  see  you.  How  far  is  it?  " 

"We  shall  be  home  before  sunset,"  said  the  carpenter; 
"  and  from  the  Border-house  you  are  but  a  league  and  a  half. 
Your  boy  increases  our  household  for  this  night,  and  to-mor- 
row we  expect  you." 

The  man  and  the  animal  set  forth.  Wilhelm  smiled  thought- 
fully to  see  his  Felix  so  soon  received  among  the  angels.  The 
boy  had  already  seized  a  sedge-tuft,  and  taken  the  basket 
from  the  younger  of  his  companions.  The  procession  was 
again  on  the  point  of  vanishing  behind  a  ledge  of  rock,  when 
Wilhelm  recollected  himself,  and  cried,  "  But  how  shall  I 
inquire  you  out?" 

"Ask  for  St.  Joseph!"  sounded  from  the  hollow;  and 
the  whole  vision  had  sunk  behind  the  blue,  shady  wall  of 


106  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

cliffs.  A  pious  hymn,  uplifted  on  a  chorus  of  several  voices, 
rose  echoing  from  the  distance ;  and  Wilhelm  thought  he 
could  distinguish  the  voice  of  his  Felix  among  the  rest. 

He  ascended  the  path,  and  thus  protracted  the  period  of 
sunset.  The  heavenly  star,  which  he  had  more  than  once 
lost  sight  of,  illuminated  him  afresh  as  he  mounted  higher ; 
and  it  was  still  day  when  he  reached  his  inn.  Once  more  he 
delighted  himself  with  the  vast  mountain  prospect,  then  with- 
drew to  his  chamber,  where  immediately  he  seized  his  pen, 
and  passed  a  part  of  the  night  in  writing. 

Wilhelm  to  Natalia. 

Now  at  last  I  have  reached  the  summit, — the  summit  of  the 
mountains,  which  will  place  a  stronger  separation  betwixt  us 
than  all  the  tract  I  had  passed  over  before.  To  my  feeling, 
one  is  still  in  the  neighborhood  of  those  he  loves,  so  long  as 
the  streams  run  down  from  him  towards  them.  To-day  I 
can  still  fancy  to  myself  that  the  twig  which  I  cast  into  the 
forest-brook  may,  perhaps,  float  down  to  her,  may  in  a  few 
days  land  at  her  garden  ;  and  thus  our  spirit  sends  its  images 
more  easily,  our  heart  its  sympathies,  by  the  same  downward 
course.  But  over  on  the  other  side  I  fear  there  rises  a  wall 
of  division  against  the  imagination  and  the  feelings.  Yet 
this,  perhaps,  is  but  a  vain  anxiety ;  for  over  on  the  other 
side,  after  all,  it  will  not  be  otherwise  than  it  is  here.  What 
could  part  me  from  thee  !  From  thee,  whose  own  I  am  for- 
ever ;  though  a  strange  destiny  sunders  me  from  thee,  and 
unexpectedly  shuts  the  heaven  to  which  I  stood  so  near.  I 
had  time  to  compose  myself;  and  yet  no  time  could  have 
sufficed  to  give  me  that  composure,  had  I  not  gained  it  from 
thy  mouth,  from  thy  lips,  in  that  decisive  moment.  How 
could  I  have  torn  myself  away,  if  the  enduring  thread  had 
not  been  spun  which  is  to  unite  us  for  time  and  eternity  ? 
Yet  I  must  not  speak  of  all  this.  Thy  tender  commands  I 
will  not  break  :  on  this  mountain-top  be  it  the  last  time  that 
I  name  the  word  Separation  before  thee  !  My  life  is  to  be- 
come a  restless  wandering.  Strange  duties  of  the  wanderer 
have  I  to  fulfil,  and  peculiar  trials  to  undergo.  How  I  often 
smile  within  myself  when  I  read  the  terms  which  thou  pre- 
scribedst  to  me,  which  I  prescribed  to  myself.  Many  of  them 
have  been  kept,  many  broken  ;  but,  even  while  breaking  them, 
this  sheet  is  of  use  to  me,  this  testimonial  of  my  last  confes- 
sion, —  of  rny  last  absolution  :  it  speaks  to  me  as  an  authori- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  107 

tative  conscience,  and  I  again  turn  to  the  right  path.  I  watch 
myself ;  and  my  faults  no  longer  rush  like  mountain  torrents, 
one  over  the  other. 

Yet  I  will  confess  to  thee  I  many  times  wonder  at  those 
teachers  and  guides  of  men  who  impose  on  their  scholars 
nothing  but  external,  mechanical  duties.  They  make  the 
task  light  for  themselves  as  well  as  for  the  world.  For  this 
very  part  of  my  obligations,  which  at  first  seemed  the  heavi- 
est, the  strangest,  I  now  observe  with  greatest  ease,  with 
greatest  satisfaction. 

I  am  not  to  stay  beyond  three  days  under  one  roof.  I  am 
to  quit  no  inn  without  removing  at  least  one  league  from  it. 
These  regulations  are,  in  truth,  calculated  to  make  my  life  a 
life  of  travel,  and  to  prevent  the  smallest  thought  of  settle- 
ment from  taking  hold  of  me.  Hitherto  I  have  fulfilled  this 
condition  to  the  letter,  not  even  using  all  the  liberty  it 
grants  me.  This  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  paused :  here, 
for  the  first  time,  I  sleep  three  nights  in  the  same  bed.  From 
this  spot  I  send  thee  much  that  I  have  heard,  observed,  laid 
up  for  thee  ;  and  early  in  the  morning  I  descend  on  the  other 
side,  — in  the  first  place,  to  a  strange  family,  I  might  almost 
say,  a  Holy  Family,  of  which,  in  my  journal,  thou  wilt  find 
further  notice.  For  the  present,  farewell ;  and  lay  down 
this  sheet  with  the  feeling  that  it  has  but  one  thing  to  sa}T, 
but  one  thing  which  it  would  say  and  repeat  forever;  yet 
will  not  say  it,  will  not  repeat  it  now,  till  I  have  once  more 
the  happiness  of  lying  at  thy  feet,  and  weeping  over  thy 
hands  for  all  that  I  renounce. 

MOKNIKO. 

My  packing  is  done.  The  porter  is  girding  the  portman- 
teau on  his  dorsel.  As  yet,  the  sun  is  not  up :  vapors  are 
streaming  out  of  all  the  hollows,  but  the  upper  sky  is  clear. 
We  step  down  into  the  gloomy  deeps,  which  also  will  soon 
brighten  over  our  heads.  Let  me  send  my  last  sigh  home  to 
thee !  Let  my  last  look  towards  thee  be  yet  blinded  with 
involuntary  tears !  I  am  decided  and  determined.  Thou 
shalt  hear  no  more  complaints  from  me :  thou  shalt  hear 
only  what  happens  to  the  wanderer.  And  yet  now,  when  I 
am  on  the  point  of  ending,  a  thousand  thoughts,  wishes, 
hopes,  and  purposes  come  crowding  through  my  soul.  Hap- 
pily the  people  force  me  away.  The  porter  calls  me ;  and 
mine  host  has  already  in  my  presence  begun  sorting  the 
apartment,  as  if  I  were  gone :  thus  feeliugless,  imprudent 


108  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

heirs  do  not  hide  from  the  departing  testator  their  prepara- 
tions for  assuming  management. 


CHAPTER  H. 

ST.    JOSEPH   THE   SECOND. 

ALREADY  had  the  wanderer,  following  his  porter  on  foot, 
left  the  steep  rocks  behind  and  above  him :  already  were 
they  traversing  a  softer  mid-range  of  hills,  and  hastening 
through  many  a  well-pruned  wood,  over  many  a  friendly 
meadow,  forward  and  forward ;  till  at  last  they  found  them- 
selves on  a  declivity,  and  looked  down  into  a  beautifully 
cultivated  valle}',  begirt  on  all  sides  with  hills.  A  large 
monastic  edifice,  half  in  ruins,  half  in  repair,  immediately 
attracted  their  attention.  "This  is  St.  Joseph,"  said  the 
porter.  "  Pity  for  the  fine  church  !  Do  but  look  how  fresh 
and  firm  it  still  holds  up  its  pillars  through  bush  and  tree, 
though  it  has  lain  many  hundred  years  in  decay." 

"  The  cloister,  on  the  contrary,"  said  Wilhelm,  "I  ob- 
serve, is  kept  in  good  state." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other :  "  there  is  a  Schaffner  lives  here  ; 
he  manages  the  husbandry,  collects  the  dues  and  tithes, 
which  the  people  far  and  wide  have  to  pay  him." 

So  speaking,  they  had  entered  through  the  open  gate  into 
a  spacious  court,  surrounded  with  earnest-looking,  well-kept 
buildings,  and  announcing  itself  as  the  residence  of  some 
peaceful  community.  Among  the  children  playing  in  the 
area,  Wilhelm  noticed  Felix :  the  other  two  were  the  angels 
of  last  night.  The  friendly  trefoil  came  running  towards 
him  with  salutations,  and  assurances  that  papa  would  soon 
be  back.  He,  in  the  mean  while,  they  said,  must  go  into  the 
hall,  and  rest  himself. 

How  surprised  was  Wilhelm  when  the  children  led  him 
into  this  apartment  which  they  named  the  hall.  Passing 
directly  from  the  court,  through  a  large  door,  our  wanderer 
found  himself  in  a  very  cleanly,  undecayed  chapel,  which 
however,  as  he  saw  well  enough,  had  been  fitted  up  for  the 
domestic  uses  of  daily  life.  On  the  one  side  stood  a  table, 
a  settle,  some  chairs  and  benches  ;  on  the  other  side  a  neatly 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  109 

carved  dresser,  with  variegated  pottery,  jugs,  and  glasses. 
Some  chests  and  trunks  were  standing  hi  suitable  niches : 
and,  simple  as  the  whole  appeared,  there  was  not  wanting 
an  air  of  comfort ;  and  daily  household  life  looked  forth 
from  it  with  an  aspect  of  invitation.  The  light  fell  in  from 
high  windows  on  the  side.  But  what  most  roused  the  atten- 
tion of  the  wanderer  was  a  series  of  colored  figures  painted 
on  the  wall,  stretching  under  the  windows,  at  a  considerable 
height,  round  three  quarters  of  the  chapel,  and  hanging 
down  to  the  wainscot,  which  covered  the  remainder  of  the 
wall  to  the  ground.  The  pictures  represented  the  history  of 
St.  Joseph.  Here  you  might  see  him  first  employed  with 
his  carpentry  work :  here  he  meets  Mary ;  and  a  lily  is 
sprouting  from  the  ground  between  them,  while  angels  hover 
round  observing  them.  Here  his  betrothing  takes  place : 
next  comes  the  salutation  of  the  angel.  Here  he  is  sitting 
disconsolate  among  his  neglected  work :  he  has  laid  by  the 
axe,  and  is  thinking  to  put  away  his  wife.  But  now  appears 
the  angel  to  him  in  a  dream,  and  his  situation  changes. 
With  reverence  he  looks  on  the  new-born  child  in  the  stable 
at  Bethlehem,  and  prays  to  it.  Soon  after  this  comes  a  won- 
derfully beautiful  picture.  You  observe  a  quantity  of  tim- 
ber lying  dressed:  it  is  just  to  be  put  together,  and  by 
chance  two  of  the  pieces  form  a  cross.  The  child  has  fallen 
asleep  on  the  cross ;  his  mother  sits  by,  and  looks  at  him 
with  heartfelt  love ;  and  the  foster-father  pauses  with  his 
labor,  that  he  may  not  awaken  him.  Next  follows  the  flight 
into  Egypt :  it  called  forth  a  smile  from  the  gazing  traveller, 
for  he  saw  here  on  the  walls  a  repetition  of  the  living  figures 
he  had  met  last  night. 

He  had  not  long  pursued  his  contemplations,  when  the 
landlord  entered,  whom  he  directly  recognized  as  the  leader 
of  the  Holy  Caravan.  They  saluted  each  other  cordially : 
much  conversation  followed,  yet  Wilhelm's  chief  attention 
continued  fixed  on  the  pictures.  The  host  observed  the  feel- 
ing of  his  guest,  and  began  with  a  smile,  "  No  doubt  you 
are  wondering  at  the  strange  accordance  of  this  building 
with  its  inhabitants,  whom  you  last  night  got  acquainted 
with.  Yet  it  is,  perhaps,  still  more  singular  than  you  sup- 
pose :  the  building  has,  in  truth,  formed  the  inhabitants. 
For,  when  the  inanimate  has  life,  it  can  also  produce  what 
has  life." 

"Yes,  indeed!"  answered  Wilhelm :  "I  should  be  sur- 
prised if  the  spirit,  which  worked  so  powerfully  in  this 


110  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

mountain  solitude  long  centuries  ago,  and  drew  round  it 
such  a  mighty  body  of  edifices,  possessions,  and  rights,  dif- 
fusing in  return  the  blessings  of  manifold  culture  over  the 
region,  could  not  still,  out  of  these  ruins,  manifest  the  force 
of  its  life  on  some  living  being.  But  let  us  not  linger  on 
general  reflections :  make  me  acquainted  with  your  history ; 
let  me  know  how  it  can  possibly  have  happened,  that,  with- 
out affectation  and  presumption,  the  past  again  represents 
itself  in  you,  and  what  was,  again  is." 

Just  as  Wilhelm  was  expecting  responsive  information 
from  the  lips  of  his  host,  a  friendly  voice  in  the  court  cried, 
44  Joseph !  "  The  man  obeyed  it,  and  went  out. 

44  So  he,  too,  is  Joseph  !  "  said  Wilhelm  to  himself.  '4  This 
is  strange  enough,  and  yet  not  so  strange  as  that  in  his  life 
he  should  personate  his  saint."  At  the  same  time,  looking 
through  the  door,  he  saw  the  Virgin  Mother  of  last  night 
speaking  with  her  husband.  They  parted  at  last :  the  wo- 
man walked  towards  the  opposite  building.  "  Mary,"  cried 
he  after  her,  "  a  word  more." 

"  So  she,  too,  is  Mary  ! "  said  Wilhelm  inwardly  "  Little 
would  make  me  feel  as  if  I  were  transported  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  into  the  past !  "  He  thought  of  the  solemn  and 
secluded  valley  in  which  he  was,  of  the  wrecks  and  silence 
all  around ;  and  a  strange,  antiquarian  mood  came  over  him. 
It  was  time  for  the  landlord  and  children  to  come  in.  The 
latter  called  for  Wilhelm  to  go  and  walk,  as  the  landlord  had 
still  some  business  to  do.  And  now  came  in  view  the  ruins 
of  the  church,  with  its  many  shafts  and  columns,  with  its 
high  peaks  and  walls  ;  which  looked  as  if  gathering  strength 
in  the  influence  of  wind  and  weather ;  for  strong  trees  from 
of  old  had  taken  root  in  the  broad  backs  of  the  walls,  and 
now,  in  company  with  grass,  flowers,  and  moss  in  great  quan- 
tities, exhibited  bold  hanging  gardens  vegetating  in  the  air. 
Soft  sward-paths  led  you  up  the  banks  of  a  lively  brook  ;  and 
from  a  little  elevation  our  wanderer  could  now  overlook  the 
edifice  and  its  site  with  more  interest,  as  its  occupants  had 
become  still  more  singular  in  his  eyes,  and  by  their  harmony 
with  their  abode  had  awakened  his  liveliest  curiosity. 

The  promeuaders  returned,  and  found  in  the  religious  hall 
a  table  standing  covered.  At  the  upper  end  was  an  arm- 
chair, in  which  the  mistress  of  the  house  took  her  seat.  Be- 
side her  she  had  placed  a  high  wicker-cradle,  in  which  lay 
the  little  infant :  the  father  sat  next  this  on  her  left  hand, 
Wilhelm  on  her  right.  The  three  children  occupied  the 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  Ill 

under  space  of  the  table.  An  old  serving-maid  brought  in 
a  well-readied  meal.  Eating  and  drinking  implements  alike 
pointed  to  the  past.  The  children  afforded  matter  for  talk, 
while  Wilhelm  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  looking  at  the 
form  and  the  bearing  of  his  saintly  hostess. 

Their  repast  over,  the  company  separated.  The  landlord 
took  his  guest  to  a  shady  spot  in  the  ruin,  where,  from  an 
elevated  station,  the  pleasant  prospect  down  the  valley  lay 
entire  before  them ;  and,  farther  off,  the  heights  of  the  lower 
country,  with  their  fruitful  declivities  and  woody  backs,  were 
seen  protruding  one  behind  the  other.  "  It  is  fair,"  said  the 
landlord,  "  that  I  satisfy  your  curiosity  ;  and  the  rather,  as 
I  feel  that  you  can  view  the  strange  with  seriousness  when 
you  find  it  resting  on  a  serious  ground.  This  religious  foun- 
dation, the  remains  of  which  are  lying  round  us,  was  dedi- 
cated to  the  Holy  Family,  and  in  old  times  noted  as  a  place 
of  pilgrimage  for  many  wonders  done  in  it.  The  church 
was  consecrated  to  the  Mother  and  the  Son.  It  has  lain 
for  several  centuries  in  ruins.  The  chapel,  dedicated  to  the 
holy  foster-father,  still  remains,  as  does  likewise  the  service- 
able part  of  the  cloister.  The  revenues  have  for  many 
years  belonged  to  a  temporal  prince,  who  keeps  a  steward 
or  Schaffner  here :  this  Schaffner  am  I,  son  of  the  last 
Schaffner,  who  also  succeeded  his  father  in  the  office. 

"  St.  Joseph,  though  any  regular  worship  of  him  has  long 
ceased  here,  had  been  so  helpful  to  our  family,  that  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  if  they  felt  particularly  well  inclined 
towards  him :  hence  came  it  that  they  had  me  baptized  by 
the  name  of  Joseph,  and  thereby,  1  may  say,  in  some  sense 
determined  my  whole  future  way  of  life.  I  grew  up ;  and, 
if  I  used  to  help  my  father  in  managing  the  dues,  I  attached 
myself  as  gladly,  nay,  still  more  gladly,  to  my  mother,  who 
cheerfully  distributed  her  bounty  according  to  her  fortune, 
and  for  her  kindness  and  good  deeds  was  known  and  loved 
over  all  the  mountains.  Erelong  she  would  send  me  out, 
now  this  way,  now  that ;  now  to  fetch,  now  to  carry,  now 
direct ;  and  I  very  speedily  began  to  be  at  home  in  this  sort 
of  pious  occupation. 

"  In  general,  our  mountain  life  has  something  more  hu- 
mane in  it  than  the  life  of  Lowlanders.  The  inhabitants 
here  are  nearer,  and,  if  you  will,  more  remote  also.  Our 
wants  are  smaller,  but  more  pressing.  Each  man  is  placed 
more  on  his  own  footing :  he  must  learn  to  depend  on  his 
own  hands,  on  his  own  limbs.  The  laborer,  the  post,  the 


112  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

porter,  all  unite  in  one  person :  each  of  us  is  more  connected 
with  the  other,  meets  him  oftener,  and  lives  with  him  in  joint 
activity. 

"As  I  was  still  young,  and  my  shoulders  could  not  bear 
heavy  burdens,  I  fell  upon  a  thought  of  furnishing  a  little 
ass  with  panniers,  which  I  might  drive  before  me  up  and  down 
the  steep  foot-paths.  In  the  mountains  the  ass  is  no  such 
despicable  animal  as  in  the  plain  country,  where  the  laborer 
that  ploughs  with  horses  reckons  himself  better  than  he  that 
turns  his  furrow  with  oxen.  And  I  walked  behind  my  beast 
with  the  less  hesitation,  as  I  had  before  observed  in  the 
chapel,  that  an  animal  of  this  same  sort  had  been  promoted 
to  such  honor  as  to  carry  God  and  his  Mather.  This  chapel 
was  not  then,  however,  in  the  state  you  now  see  it  in.  It 
had  been  treated  as  a  cart-house,  nay,  almost  as  a  stable. 
Firewood,  stakes,  implements,  barrels,  and  ladders,  every 
thing  that  came  to  hand,  lay  huddled  together  in  it.  Lucky 
that  the  pictures  were  so  high,  and  the  wainscot  could  stand 
some  hardships.  But  even  in  my  childhood  I  used  many  a 
time  to  clamber  over  the  wood,  and  delight  myself  with  look- 
ing at  the  pictures,  which  no  one  could  properly  explain  to 
me.  However,  I  knew  at  least  that  the  saint  whose  life 
stood  depicted  on  these  walls  was  my  patron  ;  and  I  rejoiced 
in  him  as  much  as  if  he  had  been  my  uncle.  I  waxed  in 
stature ;  and  it  being  an  express  condition,  that  whoever 
meant  to  aspire  after  this  post  of  Schaffner  must  practise 
some  handicraft,  our  family,  desiring  that  I  might  inherit  so 
good  a  benefice,  determined  on  putting  me  to  learn  some 
trade,  and  such  a  one,  at  the  same  time,  as  might  be  useful 
here  in  our  upland  way  of  life. 

"  My  father  was  a  cooper,  and  had  been  accustomed  to  sup- 
ply of  himself  whatever  was  required  in  that  sort ;  from  which 
there  arose  no  little  profit,  both  to  himself  and  the  country. 
But  I  could  not  prevail  on  myself  to  follow  him  in  this  busi* 
ness.  My  inclination  drew  me  irresistibly  to  the  joinei 
trade,  the  tools  and  materials  of  which  I  had  seen,  from  in- 
fancy upwards,  so  accurately  and  circumstantially  painted 
beside  my  patron  saint.  I  signified  my  wish  :  nothing  could 
be  objected  to  it,  —  the  less,  as  in  our  frequent  buildings  the 
carpenter  is  often  wanted  here  ;  nay,  if  he  have  any  sleight 
in  his  trade,  and  fondness  for  it,  especially  in  forest  districts, 
the  arts  of  the  cabinet-maker,  and  even  of  the  carver,  lie  close 
beside  his  province.  And  what  still  further  confirmed  me  in 
my  higher  purposes  was  a  picture,  which  now,  alas !  is  almost 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  113 

effaced.  If  once  you  know  what;  it  is  meant  to  represent, 
you  may  still  be  able  to  decipher  the  figures,  when  I  take 
you  to  look  at  it.  St.  Joseph  had  got  no  lower  a  commission 
than  to  make  a  throne  for  King  Herod.  The  royal  seat  was 
to  be  erected  between  two  given  pillars.  Joseph  carefully 
measures  the  breadth  and  height,  and  fashions  a  costly 
throne.  But  how  astonished  is  he,  how  alarmed,  on  carrying 
his  finished  work  to  the  place :  the  throne  is  too  high,  and 
not  broad  enough.  King  Herod,  as  we  know,  was  a  man 
that  did  not  understand  jesting :  the  pious  wright  is  in 
the  greatest  perplexity.  The  divine  Child,  accustomed  to 
follow  him  everywhere,  and  in  childlike,  humble  sport  to 
carry  his  tools  after  him,  observes  his  strait,  and  is  immedi- 
ately at  hand  with  advice  and  assistance.  He  requires  of 
his  foster-father  to  take  hold  of  the  throne  by  the  one  side, 
he  himself  grasps  it  by  the  other,  and  both  begin  to  pull. 
Easily  and  pliantly,  as  if  it  had  been  made  of  leather,  the 
carved  throne  extends  in  breadth,  contracts  proportionately 
in  length,  and  fits  itself  to  the  place  with  the  nicest  accuracy, 
to  the  great  comfort  of  the  re-assured  master,  and  the  per- 
fect satisfaction  of  the  king. 

"This  throne  was,  in  my  youth,  quite  distinctly  visible; 
and  by  the  remains  of  the  one  side  you  will  still  be  able  to 
discern  that  there  was  no  want  of  carving  on  it,  —  which, 
indeed,  must  have  been  easier  for  the  painter  than  it  would 
have  been  for  the  carpenter,  had  such  a  thing  been  required 
of  him. 

"  That  circumstance,  however,  raised  no  scruples  in  me ; 
but  I  looked  on  the  handicraft  to  which  I  had  devoted  myself 
in  so  honorable  a  light,  that  I  was  all  impatience  to  be  ap- 
prenticed to  it, — a  longing  which  was  the  easier  to  fulfil,  as  a 
master  of  the  trade  lived  in  our  neighborhood,  who  worked 
for  the  whole  district,  and  kept  several  apprentices  and 
journeymen  about  him.  Thus  I  continued  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  my  parents,  and  to  a  certain  extent  pursued  my 
former  way  of  life  also  ;  seeing  I  employed  my  leisure  hours 
and  holidays  in  doing  those  charitable  messages  which  my 
mother  still  intrusted  to  me." 


114  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

CHAPTER  in. 

THE   VISIT. 

"  So  passed  several  years,"  continued  the  narrator.  "I 
very  soon  comprehended  the  principles  of  my  trade  ;  and  my 
frame,  expanded  by  labor,  was  equal  to  the  undertaking  of 
every  thing  connected  with  the  business.  At  the  same  time  I 
kept  managing  my  ancient  service,  which  my  good  mother, 
or  rather  the  sick  and  destitute,  required  at  my  hands.  I 
moved  with  my  beast  through  the  mountains,  punctually  dis- 
tributed my  lading,  and  brought  back  from  shopkeepers  and 
merchants  what  we  needed  here  at  home. 

"  My  master  was  contented  with  me,  my  parents  also. 
Already  I  enjoyed  the  satisfaction,  in  my  wanderings,  of 
seeing  many  a  house  which  I  had  helped  to  raise,  or  had 
myself  decorated.  For,  in  particular,  that  last  notching  of 
the  beam-ends,  that  carving  of  certain  simple  forms,  that 
branding  in  of  pretty  figures,  that  red  painting  of  certain 
recesses,  by  which  a  wooden  house  in  the  mountains  acquires 
so  pleasant  an  aspect, — these  arts  were  especially  intrusted 
to  me  ;  as  I  always  made  the  best  hand  of  such  tasks,  having 
Herod's  throne  and  its  ornaments  constantly  in  my  head. 

"  Among  the  help-needing  persons  whom  my  mother  took 
peculiar  charge  of,  were  particularly  young  wives  near  the 
time  of  their  confinement,  as  by  degrees  I  could  well  enough 
remark ;  though,  in  such  cases,  the  commissions  given  me 
were  veiled  in  a  certain  mystery.  My  messages,  on  these 
occasions,  never  reached  directly  to  the  party  concerned ; 
but  every  thing  passed  through  the  hands  of  a  good  old 
woman,  who  lived  down  the  dale,  and  was  called  Frau  Eliza- 
beth. My  mother,  herself  skilful  in  the  art  which  saves  life 
to  so  many  at  their  very  entrance  into  life,  constantly  main- 
tained a  good  'understanding  with  Frau  Elizabeth ;  and  I 
often  heard,  in  all  quarters,  that  many  a  one  of  our  stout 
mountaineers  stood  indebted  for  his  existence  to  these  two 
women.  The  secrecy  with  which  Elizabeth  received  me  at 
all  times,  her  pointed  replies  to  my  enigmatical  questions, 
which  I  myself  did  not  understand,  awoke  in  me  a  singular 
reverence  for  her ;  and  her  house,  which  was  extremely  clean, 
appeared  to  me  to  represent  a  sort  of  sanctuary. 

"  Meanwhile,  by  my  acquirements  and  adroitness  in  my 
craft,  I  had  gained  considerable  influence  in  the  family.  As 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  115 

my  father,  in  the  character  of  cooper,  had  taken  charge  of 
the  cellar  and  its  contents,  I  now  took  charge  of  roof  and 
room,  and  repaired  many  a  damaged  part  in  the  old  building. 
In  particular,  I  contrived  to  make  some  fallen  barns  and  out- 
houses once  more  serviceable  for  domestic  use  ;  and  scarcely 
was  this  done  when  I  set  about  cleaning  and  clearing  out  my 
beloved  chapel.  In  a  few  days  it  was  put  in  order,  almost 
as  you  see  it  at  present ;  and  such  pieces  of  the  wainscot  as 
were  damaged  or  altogether  wanting,  I  had  endeavored,  as  I 
went  along,  to  restore  in  the  same  fashion  as  the  rest.  These 
door-leaves  of  the  entrance,  too,  you  might  think,  were  old 
enough  ;  yet  they  are  of  my  workmanship.  I  passed  several 
years  in  carving  them  at  leisure  hours,  having  first  mortised 
the  body  of  them  firmly  together  out  of  strong  oaken  planks. 
Whatever  of  the  pictures  had  not  been  effaced  or  injured  at 
that  time,  has  since  continued  unimpaired ;  and  I  assisted 
our  glazier  in  a  new  house  he  was  erecting,  under  the  condi- 
tion of  his  putting  in  colored  windows  here. 

"If  these  figures  and  thoughts  on  the  saint's  life  had 
hitherto  occupied  my  imagination,  the  whole  impressed  itself 
on  me  with  much  more  liveliness,  now  that  I  could  again  re- 
gard the  place  as  a  sanctuary,  could  linger  in  it,  and  muse 
at  leisure  on  what  I  saw  or  conjectured.  There  lay  in  me 
an  irresistible  desire  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  this  saint : 
and,  as  a  similar  history  was  not  to  be  looked  for  in  these 
times,  I  determined  on  commencing  my  resemblance  from 
the  lowest  point  upwards ;  as,  indeed,  by  the  use  of  my 
beast  of  burden,  I  had  already  commenced  it  long  ago.  The 
small  creature  which  I  had  hitherto  employed  would  no  Jonger 
content  me :  I  chose  for  myself  a  far  more  stately  carrier, 
and  got  a  large,  stout  saddle,  which  was  equally  adapted  for 
riding  and  packing.  A  pair  of  new  baskets  were  also  procured  ; 
and  a  net  of  many-colored  knots,  flakes,  and  tufts,  intermixed 
with  jingling  tags  of  metal,  decorated  the  neck  of  my  long- 
eared  beast,  which  might  now  show  itself  beside  its  model 
on  the  wall.  No  one  thought  of  mocking  me  when  I  passed 
over  the  mountains  in  this  equipment :  people  do  not  quarrel 
with  Benevolence  for  putting  on  a  strange  outside. 

"Meanwhile,  war,  or  rather  its  consequences,  had  ap- 
proached our  district ;  for  dangerous  bauds  of  vagabond 
deserters  had  more  than  once  collected,  and  here  and  there 
practised  much  violence  and  wanton  mischief.  By  the  good 
order  of  our  provincial  militia,  by  patrolling  and  prompt 
watchfulness,  the  evil  was  very  soon  remedied :  but  we  too 


116  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

quickly  relapsed  into  our  former  carelessness ;  and,  before 
we  thought  of  it,  new  disorders  broke  forth. 

"  For  a  long  time  all  had  been  quiet  in  our  neighborhood, 
and  I  had  travelled  peacefully  with  my  ass  along  the  accus- 
tomed paths  ;  till  one  day,  passing  over  a  newly  sown  glade 
of  the  forest,  I  observed  a  female  form  sitting,  or  rather 
lying,  at  the  edge  of  the  fence-ditch.  She  seemed  to  be  asleep 
or  in  a  swoon.  I  endeavored  to  recall  her ;  and,  as  she  opened 
her  eyes  and  sat  upright,  she  cried  with  eagerness,  '  Where 
is  he?  Did  you  see  him? '  I  asked,  '  Whom? '  She  replied, 
'  My  husband.'  Considering  her  extremely  youthful  appear- 
ance, I  had  not  been  expecting  this  reply ;  yet  I  continued,  so 
much  the  more  kindly,  to  assist  her,  and  assure  her  of  my  sym- 
pathy. I  learned  that  the  two  travellers  had  left  their  carriage, 
the  road  being  so  heavy,  and  struck  into  a  footpath  to  make 
a  shorter  cut.  Hard  by  they  had  been  overtaken  by  armed 
marauders ;  her  husband  had  gone  off  fighting  with  them ; 
she,  not  able  to  follow  him  far,  had  sunk  on  this  spot,  and 
lain  there  she  knew  not  how  long.  She  pressiugly  begged  of 
me  to  leave  her,  and  hasten  after  her  husband.  She  rose  to 
her  feet ;  and  the  fairest,  loveliest  form  stood  before  me : 
yet  I  could  easily  observe  that  she  was  in  a  situation  in  which 
she -might  soon  require  the  help  of  my  mother  and  Frau  Eliza- 
beth. We  disputed  a  while  :  for  I  wished,  before  all,  to  bring 
her  to  some  place  of  safety  ;  she  wished,  in  the  first  place,  to 
have  tidings  of  her  husband.  She  would  not  leave  the  trace 
of  him ;  and  all  my  arguments  would  perhaps  have  been 
unavailing,  had  not  a  party  of  our  militia,  which  the  tidings 
of  fresh  misdeeds  had  again  called  out  into  service,  chanced 
to  pass  that  way  through  the  forest.  These  I  informed  of 
the  matter:  with  them  the  necessary  arrangements  were 
made,  the  place  of  meeting  appointed,  and  so  the  business 
settled  for  the  time.  With  great  expedition  I  hid  my  pan- 
niers in  a  neighboring  cave,  which  had  often  served  me 
before  as  a  repository :  I  adjusted  my  saddle  for  easy  rid- 
ing, and,  not  without  a  strange  emotion,  lifted  the  fail1  bur- 
den on  my  willing  beast,  which,  knowing  of  itself  what  path 
to  choose,  left  me  at  liberty  to  walk  by  her  side. 

"  You  can  figure  to  yourself,  without  my  describing  it  at 
large,  in  what  a  strange  mood  I  was.  What  I  had  long  been 
seeking  I  had  now  found.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  dreaming,  and 
then  again  as  if  I  were  awakening  from  a  dream.  That 
heavenly  form  which  I  saw,  as  it  were,  hovering  in  the  air, 
and  bending  aside  from  the  green  branches,  now  seemed  to 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  117 

me  like  a  dream  which  had  risen  in  my  soul  through  those 
figures  in  the  chapel.  Soon  those  figures  themselves  seemed 
to  me  to  have  been  only  dreams,  which  were  here  issuing  in 
a  fair  reality.  I  asked  her  many  things  :  she  answered  me 
softly  and  kindly,  as  beseemed  a  dignified  distress.  She 
often  desired  me,  when  we  reached  any  open  height,  to  stop, 
to  look  round,  to  listen.  She  desired  me  with  such  grace, 
with  such  a  deep,  wistful  look  from  under  her  long  black  eye- 
lashes, that  I  could  not  but  do  whatever  lay  in  my  power ; 
nay,  at  last  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  high,  solitary,  branch- 
less pine.  Never  had  this  feat  of  my  handicraft  been  more 
welcome  to  me  :  never  had  I,  with  greater  joy,  brought  down 
ribbons  and  silks  from  such  elevations  at  festivals  and  fairs. 
But  for  this  time,  alas  !  I  came  back  without  booty :  above, 
as  below,  I  could  hear  or  see  nothing.  In  the  end,  she  her- 
self called  me  down,  and  beckoned  to  me  earnestly  with  her 
hand :  nay,  at  last,  as  in  gliding  down  I  quitted  my  hold  a 
considerable  way  up,  and  dropped  on  the  ground,  she  gave 
a  scream  ;  and  a  sweet  kindliness  spread  over  her  face  as  she 
saw  me  before  her  unhurt. 

"  Why  should  I  tell  you  in  detail  of  the  hundred  .attentions 
with  which  I  strove  the  whole  way  to  be  pleasing,  to  divert 
her  thoughts  from  her  grief?  Indeed,  how  could  I?  For  it 
is  the  very  quality  of  true  attention,  that,  at  the  moment, 
it  makes  a  nothing  all.  To  my  feeling,  the  flowers  which 
I  broke  for  her,  the  distant  scenes  which  I  showed  her, 
the  hills,  the  woods,  which  I  named  to  her,  were  so  many 
precious  treasures  which  I  was  giving  her  to  obtain  for 
myself  a  place  among  her  interests,  as  one  tries  to  do  by 
presents. 

"•  Already  she  had  gained  me  for  my  whole  life,  when  we 
reached  our  destination,  at  that  good  old  woman's  door ;  and 
I  saw  a  painful  separation  close  at  hand.  Once  more  I  ran 
over  all  her  form  ;  and,  as  my  eyes  came  on  her  feet,  I  stooped 
as  if  to  adjust  something  in  my  girdle,  and  kissed  the  dain- 
tiest shoe  that  I  had  ever  seen,  yet  without  her  noticing  me. 
I  helped  her  down,  sprang  up  the  steps,  and  called  in  at  the 
door,  4  Frau  Elizabeth,  here  is  a  visitor ! '  The  good  old 
woman  came  down  :  and  I  looked  over  her  shoulders  towards 
the  house,  as  the  fair  being  mounted  the  steps  with  graceful 
sorrow,  and  inward,  painful  self-consciousness ;  till  she 
gratefully  embraced  my  worthy  old  woman,  and  accompanied 
her  into  the  better  chamber.  They  shut  the  door;  and  I 
was  left  standing  outside  by  my  ass,  like  a  man  that  has 


118  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

delivered  a  loading  of  precious  wares,  and  is  again  as  poor 
a  carrier  as  before." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    LILY-STALK. 

'*  I  WAS  still  lingering  in  my  departure,  for  I  knew  not 
what  to  do  if  I  were  gone,  when  Frau  Elizabeth  came  to  the 
door,  and  desired  me  to  send  my  mother  down  to  her,  and 
then  to  go  about,  and,  if  possible,  get  tidings  of  the  husband. 
'Mary  begs  you  very  much  to  do  this,'  said  she.  '  Can  I 
not  speak  with  her  again  myself  ? '  replied  I.  '  That  will  not 
do,'  said  Elizabeth ;  and  we  parted.  In  a  short  time  I 
reached  our  dwelling :  my  mother  was  ready  that  same  night 
to  go  over,  and  be  helpful  to  the  young  stranger.  I  hastened 
down  the  .country,  thinking  I  should  get  the  surest  intel- 
ligence at  the  Amtmann's.  But  the  Amtmann  himself  was 
still  in  uncertainty  ;  and,  as  I  was  known  to  him,  he  invited 
me  to  pass  the  night  there.  It  seemed  interminably  long ; 
and  still  I  had  the  fair  form  before  my  eyes,  as  she  sat  gently 
swaying  in  the  saddle,  and  looking  down  to  me  so  sorrowful 
and  friendly.  Every  moment  I  hoped  for  news.  To  the 
worthy  husband  I  honestly  wished  life  and  safety,  and  yet 
I  liked  so  well  to  fancy  her  a  widow  !  The  ranging  troops  by 
little  and  little  collected ;  and,  after  many  variable  rumors, 
the  certainty  at  last  came  to  light,  that  the  carnage  was 
saved,  but  the  hapless  traveller  dead  of  his  wounds  in  a 
neighboring  village.  I  learned  also,  that,  according  to  our 
first  arrangement,  some  of  the  party  had  gone  to  communicate 
the  melancholy  tidings  to  Frau  Elizabeth :  consequently  I  had 
nothing  more  to  do  there.  Yet  a  boundless  impatience,  an 
immeasurable  longing,  drove  me  over  wood  and  mountain 
once  more  to  her  threshold.  It  was  dark ;  the  door  was 
shut ;  I  saw  light  in  the  room,  I  saw  shadows  moving  on  the 
curtains ;  and  thus  I  sat  watching  on  a  bench  opposite  the 
house ;  still  on  the  point  of  knocking,  and  still  withheld  by 
many  considerations. 

"  But  why  should  I  go  on  describing  to  you  what  is  in 
itself  of  no  interest?  In  short,  next  morning,  too,  the 


MEISTEE'S  TRAVELS.  119 

house  was  shut  against  me.  They  knew  the  heavy  tidings, 
they  needed  me  no  further ;  they  sent  me  to  my  father,  to 
my  work  ;  they  would  not  answer  my  inquiries  ;  they  wanted 
to  be  rid  of  me. 

"For  eight  days  this  sort  of  treatment  had  continued, 
when  at  last  Frau  Elizabeth  called  me  in.  '  Step  softly,  my 
friend,'  said  she,  '  but  enter  without  scruple.'  She  led  me 
into  a  trim  apartment,  where,  in  the  corner,  through  the 
half-opened  curtains,  I  saw  my  fair  one  dressed,  and  sitting 
upright  in  the  bed.  Frau  Elizabeth  went  towards  her  as  if 
to  announce  me,  lifted  something  from  the  bed,  and  brought 
it  me,  — wrapped  in  the  whitest  swathings,  the  prettiest  boy  ! 
Frau  Elizabeth  held  it  straight  betwixt  the  mother  and  me  ; 
and  just  then  the  lily-stalk  occurred  to  me,  which,  in  the 
picture,  springs  from  the  ground  between  Joseph  and  Mary, 
as  witness  of  the  purity  of  their  affection.  From  that 
moment  I  was  certain  of  my  cause,  certain  of  my  happiness. 
I  could  approach  her  with  freedom,  speak  with  her,  bear  her 
heavenly  eye,  take  the  boy  on  my  arm,  and  imprint  a  warm 
kiss  on  his  brow. 

"  '  How  I  thank  you  for  the  love  you  bear  to  that  orphan 
child  !  '  said  the  mother.  Unthinkingly  and  briskly  I  cried, 
'  It  is  no  orphan  any  longer,  if  you  like  ! ' 

"  Frau  Elizabeth,  more  prudent  than  I,  took  the  child  from 
my  hands,  and  got  me  put  away. 

"  To  this  hour,  when  I  chance  to  be  wandering  over  our 
mountains  and  forests,  the  remembrance  of  that  time  forms 
my  happiest  entertainment.  I  can  still  recall  the  slightest 
particulars  ;  which,  however,  as  is  fit,  I  spare  you  at  present. 
Weeks  passed  on :  Mary  was  recovered ;  1  could  see  her 
of  tener ;  my  intercourse  with  her  was  a  train  of  services  and 
attentions.  Her  family  circumstances  allowed  her  to  choose 
a  residence  according  to  her  pleasure.  She  first  staid  with 
Frau  Elizabeth :  then  she  paid  us  a  visit,  to  thank  my  mother 
and  me  for  so  many  and  such  friendly  helps.  She  liked  to 
live  with  us,  and  I  flattered  myself  that  it  was  partly  on 
my  account.  "What  I  wished  to  tell  her,  however,  and  durst 
not  utter,  came  to  words  in  a  singular  and  pretty  wise,  when 
I  took  her  into  the  chapel,  which  I  had  then  fitted  up  as  a 
habitual  apartment.  I  showed  her  the  pictures,  and  ex- 
plained them  to  her  one  after  the  other,  and,  so  doing,  un- 
folded the  duties  of  a  foster-father  in  so  vivid  and  cordial  a 
manner  that  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  I  could  not 
get  to  the  end  of  my  picture  exhibition.  I  thought  myself 


120  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

certain  of  her  affection,  though  I  was  not  prond  enough  to 
wish  so  soon  to  efface  the  memory  of  her  husband.  The 
law  imposes  on  widows  a  year  of  mourning ;  and,  in  truth, 
such  an  epoch,  which  includes  in  it  the  change  of  all  earthly 
things,  is  necessary  for  a  feeling  heart,  to  alleviate  the 
painful  impressions  of  a  great  loss.  We  see  the  flowers 
fade  and  the  leaves  fall ;  but  we  likewise  see  fruits  ripen,  and 
new  buds  shoot  forth.  Life  belongs  to  the  living,  and  he 
who  lives  must  be  prepared  for  vicissitudes. 

"  I  now  spoke  with  my  mother  on  the  concern  which  lay 
so  near  my  heart.  She  thereupon  disclosed  to  me  how 
grievous  to  Mary  the  death  of  her  husband  had  been,  and 
how  she  had  borne  up  and  gathered  courage  again,  solely 
from  the  thought  that  she  must  live  for  her  child.  My  in- 
clination was  not  unknown  to  the  women,  and  already  Mary 
had  accustomed  herself  to  the  idea  of  living  with  us.  She 
staid  a  while  longer  in  the  neighborhood :  then  she  came  up 
to  us,  and  we  lived  for  a  time  in  the  gentlest  and  happiest 
state  of  betrothment.  At  last  we  wedded.  That  feeling 
which  had  first  drawn  us  together  did  not  fade  away.  The 
duties  and  joys  of  the  father  and  the  foster-father  were 
united :  and  so  our  little  family,  as  it  increased,  did  certainly 
surpass  its  prototype  in  number  of  persons  ;  -but  the  virtues 
of  that  pattern,  in  respect  to  faithfulness,  and  purity  of  sen- 
timents, were  sacredly  maintained  and  practised  by  us.  And 
so  also  in  friendly  habitude  we  keep  up  the  external  appear- 
ance which  we,  by  accident,  arrived  at,  and  which  fits  our 
internal  state  so  well ;  for  though  all  of  us  are  good  walkers, 
and  stout  bearers  of  weight,  the  beast  of  burden  still  remains 
in  our  company,  when  any  business  or  visit  takes  us  through 
these  mountains  and  valleys.  As  you  met  us  last  night,  so 
does  the  whole  country  know  us  ;  and  we  feel  proud  that  our 
walk  and  conversation  are  of  such  a  sort  as  not  to  throw 
disgrace  on  the  saintly  name  and  figure  whose  imitators  we 
profess  to  be." 

Wllhelm  to  Natalia. 

I  now  conclude  a  pleasant,  half-marvellous  history,  which 
I  have  just  written  down  for  thee,  from  the  mouth  of  a  very 
worthy  man.  If  I  have  not  always  given  his  very  words ; 
if  here  and  there,  in  describing  his  sentiments,  I  have  ex- 
pressed my  own,  —  this,  considering  the  relationship  of  mind 
I  feel  with  him,  was  natural  enough.  His  reverence  for  his 
wife,  does  it  not  resemble  that  which  I  entertain  for  thee? 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  121 

And  is  there  not,  even  in  the  first  meeting  of  these  lovers, 
something  similar  to  ours  ?  But  that  he  is  fortunate  enough 
to  walk  beside  his  animal,  as  it  bears  the  doubly  beautiful 
burden ;  that  he  can  enter  at  evenings,  with  his  family  pos- 
session, through  the  old  cloister-gate ;  that  he  is  inseparable 
from  his  own  loved  ones,  —  in  all  this,  I  may  well  secretly 
envy  him.  Yet  I  must  not  complain  of  my  destiny  ;  seeing 
I  have  promised  thee  that  I  will  suffer  and  be  silent,  as  thou 
also  hast  undertaken. 

Many  a  fair  feature  in  the  domestic  union  of  these  devout 
and  cheerful  persons  I  have  been  obliged  to  omit,  for  how 
could  it  be  depicted  in  writing?  Two  days,  have  passed  over 
me  agreeably,  but  the  third  warns  me  to  be  mindful  of  my 
farther  wayfaring. 

With  Felix  I  had  a  little  quarrel  to-day.  He  was  almost 
for  compelling  me  to  break  through  one  wholesome  regula- 
tion, for  which  I  stand  engaged  to  thee.  It  has  been  an 
eiTor,  a  misfortune,  in  short,  an  arrangement  of  Fate  with 
me  hitherto,  that,  before  I  am  aware,  my  company  increases ; 
that  I  take  a  new  burden  on  my  shoulders,  which  thence- 
forth I  have  to  bear,  and  drag  along  with  me.  So,  in  my 
present  wanderings,  no  third  party  is  to  become  a  permanent 
associate  with  us.  We  are,  we  will  and  must  continue,  Two ; 
and  just  now  a  new,  and  not  very  pleasing,  connection, 
seemed  about  to  be  established. 

To  the  children  of  the  house,  with  whom  Felix  has  gayly 
passed  these  days  in  sporting,  there  had  joined  himself  a 
little  merry  beggar-boy,  who,  submitting  to  be  used  or  mis- 
used as  the  play  required,  had  very  soon  got  into  favor 
with  Felix.  By  various  hints  and  expressions,  I  now  gath- 
ered that  the  latter  had  found  himself  a  playmate  for  the 
next  stage  of  our  journey.  The  boy  is  known  in  this  quar- 
ter, and  everywhere  tolerated  for  his  lively  humor,  and  now 
and  then  obtains  an  alms.  Me,  however,  he  did  not  please ; 
and  I  desired  our  host  to  get  him  sent  away.  This  likewise 
took  place ;  but  Felix  was  angry  at  it,  and  we  had  a  little 
flaw  of  discord. 

In  the  course  of  this  affair,  I  discovered  something  which 
was  pleasant  to  me.  In  the  corner  of  the  chapel,  or  hall, 
stood  a  box  of  stones,  which  Felix,  who,  since  our  wander- 
ings through  the  mountains,  has  acquired  an  excessive  fond- 
ness for  minerals,  eagerly  drew  forth  and  examined.  Many 
pretty  eye-catching  things  were  among  them.  Our  landlord 
said  the  child  might  choose  out  what  he  liked :  these  were  the 


122  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

remains  of  a  large  collection  which  a  friend  had  despatched 
thence  a  short  while  ago.  He  called  this  person  Montan  ; 
and  thou  wilt  easily  suppose  how  glad  I  was  to  hear  this 
name,  under  which  one  of  our  best  friends  is  travelling,  one 
to  whom  we  owe  so  much.  Having  inquired  into  date  and 
circumstances,  I  can  now  hope  to  meet  him  erelong  on  my 
pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  news  that  Montan  was  in  the  neighborhood  had  made 
Wilhelm  reflect.  He  considered  that  it  ought  not  to  be  left 
to  chance  alone  whether  he  should  meet  with  so  estimable  a 
friend,  therefore  he  inquired  of.  his  landlord  if  they  did  not 
know  towards  what  quarter  this  traveller  had  turned  his 
course.  No  one  had  any  information  on  this  point ;  and 
Wilhelm  had  determined  to  pursue  his  pilgrimage  on  the  for- 
mer plan,  when  Felix  cried,  "  If  father  were  not  so  strange, 
we  might  soon  find  Montan." 

"What  way?"  said  Wilhelm. 

Felix  answered,  "  Little  Fitz  told  us  last  night  that  he 
could  trace  out  the  stranger  gentleman,  who  had  many  fine 
stones  with  him,  and  understood  them  well." 

After  some  talking,  Wilhelm  at  last  resolved  on  making 
the  experiment ;  purposing,  in  the  course  of  it,  to  keep  so 
much  the  sharper  watch  on  the  suspicious  boy.  Fitz  was 
soon  found ;  and,  hearing  what  was  to  be  done,  he  soon 
produced  mallet  and  chisel,  and  a  stout  hammer,  with  a  little 
bag,  and  set  forth,  running  merrily  before  the  party,  in  his 
mining  accoutrements. 

The  way  went  to  a  side,  and  up  the  mountains.  The 
children  skipped  on  together,  from  crag  to  crag,  over  stock 
and  stone,  over  brook  and  bourn ;  and,  without  having  any 
path  before  him,  Fitz  pressed  rapidly  upwards,  now  looking 
to  the  right  hand,  now  to  the  left.  As  Wilhelm,  and  es- 
pecially the  laden  porter,  could  not  follow  so  fast,  the  boys 
often  ran  back  and  forward,  singing  and  whistling.  The 
aspect  of  some  new  trees  arrested  the  attention  of  Felix, 
who  now,  for  the  first  time,  formed  acquaintance  with  larches 
and  fir-cones,  and  curiously  surveyed  the  strange  gentian 
shrubs.  And  thus,  in  their  toilsome  wandering,  there  lacked 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  123 

not  from  time  to  time  a  little  entertainment.  But  all  at  once 
they  were  fronted  by  a  barricade  of  trees,  which  a  storm  had 
hurled  together  in  a  confused  mass.  "  This  was  not  in  my 
reckoning,"  said  Fitz.  "Wait  here  till  I  find  my  way 
again,  only  have  a  care  of  the  cave  up  there :  no  one  goes 
into  it  or  near  it,  without  getting  harm,  or  having  tricks 
played  on  him." 

The  boy  went  off  in  an  ascending  direction :  the  porter, 
on  the  other  hand,  grumbling  at  the  excessive  difficulty  of 
the  way,  set  down  his  luggage,  and  searched  sidewards  and 
downwards  for  some  beaten  path. 

No  sooner  did  Felix  see  himself  alone  with  his  father, 
than  his  curiosity  awoke,  and  he  glided  softly  toward  the 
cave.  Willie  1m,  who  gave  him  leave,  observed  after  some 
time  that  the  child  was  no  longer  in  sight.  He  himself 
mounted  to  the  cave,  at  the  mouth  of  which  he  had  last 
seen  the  boy ;  and,  on  entering,  he  found  the  place  empty. 
It  was  spacious,  but  could  be  taken  in  at  a  glance.  He 
searched  for  some  other  outlet,  and  found  none.  The  matter 
began  to  be  serious.  He  took  the  whistle  which  he  wore  at 
his  button-hole  :  an  answer  to  his  call  came  sounding  out  of 
the  depth,  so  that  he  was  uncertain  whether  he  should  take 
it  for  an  echo,  when,  shortly  afterwards,  Felix  peeped  out 
of  the  ground ;  for  the  chink  through  which  he  looked  was 
scarcely  wide  enough  to  let  through  his  head. 

"  What  art  thou  about  there?  "  cried  his  father. 

44 Hush  !  "  said  Felix :  "  art  thou  alone?  " 

"  Quite  alone,"  answered  Wilhelm. 

"Then,  go  quick,"  cried  the  boy,  "  and  fetch  me  a  couple 
of  strong  clubs." 

Wilhelm  went  to  the  fallen  timber,  and,  with  his  hanger, 
cut  off  a  pair  of  thick  staves  :  Felix  took  them,  and  vanished, 
having  first  called  to  his  father,  "  Let  no  one  into  the  cave  !  " 

After  some  time  Felix  cried,  "  Another  pair  of  staves, 
and  larger  ones !  "  With  these  also  his  father  provided 
him,  and  waited  anxiously  for  the  solution  of  his  riddle. 
At  length  the  boy  issued  rapidly  from  the  cleft,  and  brought 
a  little  box  with  him,  not  larger  than  an  octavo  volume,  of 
rich,  antique  appearance  :  it  seemed  to  be  of  gold,  decorated 
with  enamel.  "Put  it  up,  father,"  said  the  boy,  "  and  let 
none  see  it."  Wilhelm  had  not  time  to  ask  many  questions, 
for  they  already  heard  the  call  of  the  returning  porter ;  and 
scarcely  had  they  joined  him,  when  the  little  squire  also 
began  to  shout  and  wave  from  above. 


124  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

On  their  approach  he  cried  out,  "  Montan  is  not  far  off: 
I  bet  we  shall  soou  meet  him." 

"  How  canst  thou  know  this,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  in  so  wild 
a  forest,  where  no  human  being  leaves  any  trace  behind 
him?" 

"  That  is  my  knack,"  said  Fitz  ;  and,  like  a  Will-o'-wisp, 
he  hopped  off  hither  and  thither,  in  a  side  direction,  to  lead 
his  masters  the  strangest  road. 

Felix,  in  the  mean  while,  highly  satisfied  in  the  treasure  he 
had  found,  highly  delighted  at  possessing  a  secret,  kept  close 
by  his  father,  without,  as  formerly,  skipping  up  and  down 
beside  his  comrade.  He  nodded  to  Wilhelm  with  sparkling 
eyes ;  glancing  towards  his  companion,  and  making  signifi- 
cant faces,  to  indicate  how  much  he  was  above  Fitz  now,  in 
possessing  a  secret  entirely  wanting  to  the  other.  He  car- 
ried it  so  far  at  length,  that  Fitz,  who  often  stopped  and 
looked  about,  must  very  soon  have  noticed  it.  Wilhelm 
therefore  said  to  Felix,  "  My  son,  whoever  wishes  to  keep 
a  secret  must  hide  from  us  that  he  possesses  one.  Self- 
complaisance  over  the  concealed  destroys  its  concealment." 
Felix  restrained  himself  ;  but  his  former  gay,  free  manner  to 
his  comrade  he  could  not  now  attain. 

All  at  once  little  Fitz  stood  still.  He  beckoned  the  rest  to 
him.  "Do  you  hear  a  beating?"  said  he.  "It  is  the 
sound  of  a  hammer  striking  on  the  rock." 

"  We  hear  it,"  answered  they. 

"  That  is  Moutan,"  said  he,  "  or  some  one  who  will  tell 
us  of  him." 

Following  the  sound,  which  was  repeated  from  time  to 
time,  they  reached  an  opening  in  the  wood,  and  perceived  a 
steep,  high,  naked  rock,  towering  over  all  the  rest,  leaving 
even  the  lofty  forest  deep  beneath  it.  On  the  top  of  it  they 
descried  a  man  :  he  was  too  far  off  to  be  recognized.  Imme- 
diately the  boys  set  about  ascending  the  precipitous  path. 
Wilhelm  followed  with  some  difficulty,  nay,  danger :  for  the 
person  that  climbs  a  rock  foremost  always  proceeds  with 
more  safety,  because  he  can  look  out  for  his  conveniences ; 
he  who  comes  after  sees  only  whither  the  other  has  arrived, 
but  not  how.  The  boys  soou  reached  the  top,  and  Wilhelm 
heard  a  shout  of  joy.  "It  is  Jarno,"  cried  Feiix  to  his 
father;  and  Jarno  immediately  came  forward  to  a  rugged 
spot,  stretched  out  his  hand  to  his  friend,  and  drew  him  up. 
Thej*  embraced,  and  welcomed  each  other  into  the  free,  skyey 
air,  with  the  rapture  of  old  friends. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  125 

But  scarcely  had  they  stepped  asunder,  when  a  giddiness 
came  over  Wilhelm,  not  so  much  on  his  own  account,  as  at 
seeing  the  boys  hanging  over  the  frightful  abyss.  Jarno  ob- 
served it,  and  immediately  bade  all  sit  down.  "  Nothing  is 
more  natural,"  said  he,  "than  that  we  should  grow  giddy 
at  a  great  sight,  which  comes  unexpectedly  before  us,  to 
make  us  feel  at  once  our  littleness  and  our  greatness.  But 
there  is  not  in  the  world  any  truer  enjoyment  than  at  the 
moment  when  we  are  so  made  giddy  for  the  fii'st  time." 

"  Are  these,  then,  down  there,  the  great  mountains  we 
climbed  over?"  inquired  Felix.  "How  little  they  look! 
And  here,"  continued  he,  loosening  a  crumb  of  stone  from 
the  rock,  "is  the  old  cat-gold  again:  this  is  found  every- 
where, I  suppose?" 

"It  is  found  far  and  wide,"  answered  Jarno;  "and,  as 
thou  art  asking  after  such  things,  I  may  bid  thee  notice  that 
thou  art  now  sitting  on  the  oldest  mountain,  on  the  earliest 
rock1,  of  this  world." 

"  Was  the  world  not  made  at  once,  then?  "  said  Felix. 

"Hardly,"  answered  Jarno  :  "  good  bread  needs  baking." 

"  Down  there,"  said  Felix,  "  is  another  sort  of  rock  ;  and 
there  again  another,  and  still  again  another,"  cried  he,  point- 
ing from  the  nearest  mountains  to  the  more  remote,  and  so 
downward  to  the  plain. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  Jarno  let  them  survey  the 
lordly  prospect  in  detail.  Here  and  there  stood  several  other 
peaks,  similar  to  the  one  our  travellers  were  on.  A  sec- 
ondary moderate  range  of  mountains  seemed  as  if  struggling 
up,  but  did  not  by  far  attain  that  height.  Farther  off,  the 
surface  flattened  still  more ;  yet  again  some  strangely  pro- 
truding forms  rose  to  view.  At  last,  in  the  remote  distance, 
lakes  were  visible,  and  rivers ;  and  a  fruitful  country  spread 
itself  out  like  a  sea.  And,  when  the  eye  came  back,  it 
pierced  into  frightful  depths,  sounding  with  cataracts,  and 
connected  with  each  other  in  labyrinthic  combination. 

Felix  could  not  satisfy  himself  with  questions,  and  Jarno 
was  kind  enough  to  answer  ah1  of  them  ;  in  which,  however, 
Wilhelm  thought  he  noticed  that  the  teacher  did  not  always 
speak  quite  truly  and  sincerely.  So,  after  the  unstaid  boys 
had  again  clambered  off,  Wilhelm  said  to  his  friend,  "Thou 
hast  not  spoken  with  the  child  about  these  matters  as  thou 
speakest  to  thyself." 

"That,  indeed,  were  a  heavy  requisition,"  answered  Jaruo. 
"  We  do  not  always  speak,  even  to  ourselves,  as  we. think  ; 


126  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

and  it  is  not  fit  to  tell  others  any  thing  but  what  they  can 
take  up.  A  man  understands  nothing  but  what  is  commen- 
surate with  him.  To  fix  a  child's  attention  on  what  is  pres- 
ent ;  to  give  him  a  description,  a  name,  —  is  the  best  thing  we 
can  do  for  him.  He  will  soon  enough  begin  to  inquire  after 
causes." 

"One  cannot  blame  this  latter  tendency,"  observed  Wil- 
helm.  "  The  multiplicity  of  objects  perplexes  every  one ; 
and  it  is  easier,  instead  of  investigating  them,  to  ask  di- 
rectly, whence  and  whither?" 

"And  yet,"  said  Jarno,  "  as  children  look  at  what  is  pres- 
ent only  superficially,  we  cannot  speak  with  them  of  origin 
and  object  otherwise  than  superficially  also." 

"  Most  men,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  continue  all  their  days 
in  this  predicament,  and  never  reach  that  glorious  epoch 
in  which  the  comprehensible  appears  to  us  common  and  in- 
sipid." 

"  It  may  well  be  called  glorious,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "  for 
it  is  a  middle  stage  between  despair  and  deification." 

"Let  us  abide  by  the  boy,"  said  Wilhelm,  "who  is,  at 
present,  my  first  care.  He  has,  somehow,  got  a  fondness 
for  minerals  since  we  began  this  journey.  Canst  thou  not 
impart  so  much  to  me  as  would  put  it  in  my  power  to  satisfy 
him,  at  least  for  a  time?  " 

"That  will  not  do,"  said  Jarno.  "  In  every  new  depart- 
ment one  must,  in- the  first  place,  begin  again  as  a  child; 
throw  a  passionate  interest  over  the  subject ;  take  pleasure 
in  the  shell  till  one  has  the  happiness  to  arrive  at  the 
kernel." 

"  Tell  me,  then,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  how  hast  thou  attained 
this  knowledge?  For  it  is  not  so  very  long,  after  all,  since 
we  parted." 

"My  friend,"  said  Jarno,  "we  were  forced  to  resign 
ourselves,  if  not  forever,  at  least  for  a  long  season.  The 
first  thing  that  occurs  to  a  stout-hearted  man,  under  such 
circumstances,  is  to  begin  a  new  life.  New  objects  will  not 
suffice  him ;  these  serve  only  for  diversion  of  thought :  he 
requires  a  new  whole,  and  plants  himself  in  the  middle  of 
it." 

"  But  why,  then,"  interrupted  Wilhelm,  "  choose  this 
strangest  and  loneliest  of  all  pursuits?" 

"  Even  because  of  its  loneliness,"  cried  Jarno.  "  Men 
I  wished  to  avoid.  To  them  we  can  give  no  help,  and  they 
hinder  us  from  helping  ourselves.  Are  they  happy,  we  must 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  127 

let  them  persevere  in  their  stolidities ;  are  they  unhappy,  we 
must  save  them  without  disturbing  these  stolidities  ;  and  no 
one  ever  asks  whether  Thou  art  happy  or  unhappy. ' ' 

"It  is  not  quite  so  bad  with  them,  surely,"  answered 
Wilhelm,  smiling. 

"  I  will  not  talk  thee  out  of  thy  happiness,"  said  Jarno. 
"Go  on  thy  way,  thou  second  Diogenes!  Let  not  thy 
lamp  in  daylight  go  out!  Down  on  that  side  lies  a  new 
world  before  thee  ;  but,  I  dare  wager,  things  stand  there  as 
in  the  old  one.  If  thou  canst  not  pimp,  and  pay  debts,  thou 
availest  nothing." 

"Yet  they  seem  to  me  more  entertaining  than  thy  dead 
rocks,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"Not  they!"  answered  Jarno,  "for  my  rocks  are  at 
least  incomprehensible." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  two  friends  had  descended,  not  without  care  and 
labor,  to  reach  the  children,  who  were  now  lying  in  a  shady 
spot  down  below.  With  almost  greater  eagerness  than  their 
picnic  repast,  the  collected  rock  specimens  were  unpacked  by 
Montan  and  Felix.  The  latter  had  much  to  ask,  the  former 
much  to  nominate.  Felix  was  delighted  that  his  new  teacher 
could  give  him  names  for  all,  and  he  speedily  committed 
them  to  memory.  At  length  he  produced  another  specimen, 
and  asked,  "  What  do  you  call  this,  then?  " 

Montan  viewed  it  with  surprise,  and  said,  "Where  did 
you  get  it?  " 

Fitz  answered  promptly,  "  I  found  it  myself :  it  is  of  this 
country." 

"Not  of  this  quarter,"  said  Montan.  Felix  rejoiced  to 
see  his  master  somewhat  puzzled.  "Thou  shalt  have  a 
ducat,"  said  Montan,  "  if  thou  bring  me  to  the  spot  where 
it  lies." 

"That  is  easy  to  earn,"  answered  Fitz,  "  but  not  imme- 
diately." 

"Then,  describe  the  place  to  me  accurately,  that  I  ma}r 
not  fail  to  find  it :  but  the  thing  is  impossible  ;  for  this  is  a 
cross-stone,  which  comes  from  Santiago  in  Compostella,  and 


128  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

which  some  stranger  has  lost, — if,  indeed,  thou  hast  not 
stolen  it  from  him,  for  its  curious  look." 

"Give  your  ducat  into  my  master's  hands,"  said  Fitz, 
"  and  I  will  honestly  confess  where  I  got  the  stone.  In  the 
ruined  church  at  St.  Joseph  there  is  likewise  a  ruined  altar. 
Under  the  top-stones,  which  are  all  broken  and  heaped  to- 
gether, I  discovered  a  layer  of  this  rock,  which  has  been  the 
foundation  of  the  other,  and  broke  off  from  it  as  much  as  I 
could  come  at.  If  the  upper  stones  were  cleared  away,  one 
might  find  much  more  of  it  there." 

"  Take  thy  ducat,"  said  Montan  :  "  thou  deservest  it  for 
this  discovery.  It  is  pretty  enough.  Men  naturally  rejoice 
when  inanimate  nature  produces  any  likeness  of  what  they 
love  and  reverence.  Nature  then  appears  to  us  in  the  form 
of  a  sibyl,  who  has  beforehand  laid  down  a  testimony  of  what 
had  been  determined  from  eternity,  and  was  not  to  be  realized 
till  late  in  time.  On  this  rock,  as  on  a  sacred,  mysterious, 
primeval  basis,  the  priests  had  built  their  altar." 

Wilhelm,  who  had  listened  for  a  while,  and  observed  that 
many  names,  many  designations,  were  repeatedly  mentioned, 
again  signified  his  former  wish,  that  Montan  would  impart 
to  him  so  much  as  was  required  for  the  primary  instruction 
of  the  boy.  "  Give  that  up,"  replied  Montan.  "  There  is 
nothing  more  frightful  than  a  teacher  who  knows  only  what 
his  scholars  are  intended  to  know.  He  who  means  to  teach 
others  may,  indeed,  often  suppress  the  best  of  what  he 
knows;  but  he  must  not  be  half  instructed." 

"  But  where  are  such  perfect  teachers  to  be  had?  " 

"  These  thou  wilt  find  very  easily,"  replied  Montan. 

"  Where,  then?  "  said  "Wilhelm,  with  some  unbelief. 

"  Where  the  thing  thou  art  wishing  to  learn  is  in  prac- 
tice," said  Montan.  "  Our  best  instruction  we  obtain  from 
complete  conversance.  Dost  thou  not  learn  foreign  lan- 
guages best  in  the  countries  where  they  are  at  home?  — 
where  only  these  and  no  other  strike  thy  ear?" 

"  And  so  it  was  among  the  mountains,"  inquired  Wilhelm, 
' '  that  thy  knowledge  of  mountains  was  acquired  ? ' ' 
•*"  Of  course." 

"  Without  help  from  men?  " 

"  At  least  only  from  men  who  were  miners.  There,  where 
the  pygmies,  allured  by  the  metallic  veins,  bore  through  the 
rock,  making  the  interior  of  the  earth  accessible,  and  in  a 
thousand  ways  endeavoring  to  solve  the  hardest  problems,  — 
there  is  the  place  where  an  inquiring  thinker  ought  to  take 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  129 

his  stand.  He  looks  on  action  and  effort,  watches  the  prog- 
ress of  enterprises,  and  rejoices  in  the  successful  and  the 
unsuccessful.  What  is  useful  forms  but  a  part  of  the  im- 
portant. Fully  to  possess,  to  command,  and  rule  an  object, 
we  must  first  study  it  for  its  own  sake." 

"  Is  there  such  a  place  in  the  neighborhood?  "  said  Wil- 
helm.  "  I  should  like  to  take  Felix  thither." 

"  The  question  I  can  answer  in  the  affirmative,"  replied 
Montan,  "  the  project  not  exactly  assent  to.  At  least,  I 
must  first  tell  thee,  that  thou  hast  the  power  of  choosing 
among  many  other  branches  of  activity,  of  knowledge,  of 
art,  for  thy  Felix,  some  of  which  might,  perhaps,  suit  him 
better  than  this  sudden  fancy  which  he  has  taken  up  at  the 
moment,  most  probably  from  mere  imitation." 

"Explain  thyself  more  clearly,"  interrupted  Wilhelm. 

"Thou  must  know,  then,"  said  Montan,  "that  we  are 
here  on  the  borders  of  a  province,  which  I  might  justly  call 
a  Pedagogic  Utopia.  In  the  conviction  that  only  one  thing 
can  be  carried  on,  taught,  and  communicated  with  full  ad- 
vantages, several  such  points  of  active  instruction  have  been, 
as  it  were,  sown  over  a  large  tract  of  country.  At  each  of 
these  places  thou  wilt  find  a  little  world,  but  so  complete 
within  its  limitation,  that  it  may  represent  and  model  any 
other  of  these  worlds,  nay,  the  great  busy  world  itself." 

"I  do  not  altogether  comprehend  what  thou  canst  mean 
by  this,"  interrupted  Wilhelm. 

"Thou  shalt  soon  comprehend  it,"  said  the  other.  "As 
down,  not  far  from  this,  among  the  mountains,  thou  wilt,  in 
the  first  place,  find  collected  round  a  mass  of  metalliferous 
rocks,  whatever  is  of  use  for  enabling  man  to  appropriate 
these  treasures  of  Nature,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  acquire 
general  conceptions  of  moulding  the  ruggedness  of  inani- 
mate things  more  dexterously  to  his  own  purposes  ;  so  down 
in  the  lowest  level,  far  out  on  the  plain,  where  the  soil 
spreads  into  large  meadows  and  pastures,  thou  wilt  find 
establishments  for  managing  another  important  treasure 
which  Nature  has  given  to  men." 

"  And  this?  "  inquired  Wilhelm. 

"  Is  the  horse,"  replied  the  other.  "  In  that  last  quarter 
thou  art  in  the  midst  of  every  thing  which  can  instruct  one 
on  the  training,  diet,  growth,  and  likewise  employment,  of 
this  noble  animal.  As  in  these  hills  all  are  busy  digging, 
boring,  climbing;  so  there  nothing  is  more  anxiously  at- 
tended to  than  the  young  brood,  springing,  as  it  were,  out  of 


130  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

the  ground :  and  every  one  is  occupied  foddering,  grazing, 
driving,  leading,  curbing  them,  mounting  their  backs,  and 
in  all  sorts  of  movements,  natural  and  artificial,  coursing 
with  them  over  the  plain." 

Felix,  who  had  approached  in  the  deepest  attention,  ex- 
claimed, interrupting  him,  "  Oh,  thither  will  we  !  That  is  the 
prettiest,  the  best,  of  all." 

"  It  is  far  thither,"  answered  Jarno  ;  "  and  thou  wilt  find 
something  more  agreeable  and  suitable,  perhaps,  by  the  way. 
Any  species  of  activity,"  continued  he,  "  attracts  the  fond- 
ness of  a  child  ;  for  every  thing  looks  easy  that  is  practised 
to  perfection.  All  beginnings  are  hard,  saj's  the  proverb. 
This,  in  a  certain  sense,  may  be  true :  but  we  might  say, 
with  a  more  universal  application,  All  beginnings  are  easy ; 
and  it  is  the  last  steps  that  are  climbed  most  rarely  and 
with  greatest  difficulty." 

Wilhelm,  who  had  been  reflecting  in  the  mean  while,  now 
said  to  Moutan,  "  Is  it  actually  so,  as  thou  sayest,  that  these 
people  have  separated  the  various  sorts  of  activity,  both  iu 
the  practice  and  teaching  of  them  ? ' ' 

"They  have  done  it,"  said  Montan,  "and  with  reason. 
Whatever  any  man  has  to  effect,  must  emanate  from  him 
like  a  second  self ;  and  how  could  this  be  possible,  were  not 
his  first  self  entirely  pervaded  by  it?  " 

"  Yet  has  not  a  general  culture  been  reckoned  very  advan- 
tageous? " 

"  It  may  really  be  so,"  replied  the  other :  "  every  thing  in 
its  time.  Now  is  the  time  of  specialties.  Happy  he  who 
understands  this,  and  works  for  himself  and  others  in  that 
spirit." 

"In  my  spirit  it  cannot  be,"  replied  "Wilhelm;  "but  tell 
me,  if  I  thought  of  sending  Felix,  for  a  while,  into  one  of 
these  circles,  which  wouldst  thou  recommend  to  me?  " 

"  It  is  all  one,"  said  Jarno.  "  You  cannot  readily  tell 
which  way  a  child's  capacity  particularly  points.  For  me, 
I  should  still  advise  the  merriest  trade.  Take  him  to  those 
horse-subduers.  Beginning  as  a  groom  is,  in  truth,  little 
easier  than  beginning  as  an  ore-beater :  •  but  the  prospect  is 
always  gayer ;  you  can  hope  at  least  to  get  through  the  world 
riding." 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  that  Wilhelm  had  man}'  other  doubts 
to  state,  and  many  further  explanations  to  require :  these 
Jamo  settled  in  his  usual  laconic  way,  but  at  last  he  broke  out 
as  follows  :  "  In  all  things,  to  serve  from  the  lowest  station 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  131 

upwards  is  necessary.  To  restrict  yourself  to  a  trade  is 
best.  For  the  narrow  mind,  whatever  he  attempts  is  still  a 
trade  ;  for  the  higher,  an  art ;  and  the  highest,  in  doing  one 
thing,  does  all ;  or,  to  speak  less  paradoxically,  in  the  one 
thing  which  he  does  rightly,  he  sees  the  likeness  of  all  that 
is  done  rightly.  Take  thy  Felix,"  continued  he,  "through 
the  province  :  let  the  directors  see  him  ;  they  will  soon  judge 
him,  and  dispose  of  him  to  the  best  advantage.  The  boy 
should  be  placed  among  his  equals,  otherwise  he  seeks  them 
for  himself,  and  then,  in  his  associates,  finds  only  flatterers  or 
tyrants." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  third  day  being  over,  the  friends,  in  conformity  to 
the  engagement  of  our  renunciants,  had  to  part ;  and  Jarno 
declared  he  would  now  fly  so  far  into  the  waste  mountains, 
that  no  one  should  be  able  to  discover  him.  "There  is  noth- 
ing more  frightful,"  said  he,  "  in  a  state  like  ours,  than  to 
meet  an  old,  true  friend,  to  whom  we  can  communicate  our 
thoughts  without  reserve.  So  long  as  one  is  bj*  himself, 
one  fancies  there  is  no  end  to  the  novelties  and  wonders  he 
is  studying :  but  let  the  two  talk  a  while  together,  right  from 
the  heart ;  one  sees  how  soon  all  this  is  exhausted.  Nothing 
is  endless  but  inanity.  Clever  people  soon  explain  them- 
selves to  one  another,  and  then  they  have  done.  But  now 
I  will  dive  into  the  chasms  of  the  rocks,  and  with  them  be- 
gin a  mute,  unfathomable  conversation." 

"Have  a  care,"  said  Wilhelm,  smiling,  "lest  Fitz  come 
upon  thy  track.  This  time,  at  least,  he  succeeded  in  finding 
thee." 

"How  didst  thou  manage  that?"  said  Montan.  "After 
all,  it  was  only  chance." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  answered  Fitz  :  "I  will  tell  you  my 
secret  for  a  fair  consideration.  You  mineralogists,  wherever 
you  go,  keep  striking  to  the  right  and  left ;  from  every  stone, 
from  every  rock,  breaking  off  a  piece,  as  if  gold  and  silver 
were  hid  in  them.  One  has  but  to  follow  this  trace ;  and, 
where  any  corner  shows  a  fresh  breakage,  there  some  of  you 
have  been.  One  notes  and  notes,  forward  and  forward,  and 
at  last  comes  upon  the  man." 


132  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Fitz  was  praised  and  rewarded.  The  friends  parted, — 
Montan  alone,  the  little  caravan  in  company.  Wilhelm  had 
settled  the  place  they  should  make  for.  The  porter  proposed 
a  road  to  it ;  but  the  children  had  taken  a  fancy  for  looking, 
by  the  way,  at  the  Giant's  Castle,  of  which  Fitz  had  talked 
so  much.  Felix  was  curious  about  the  large,  black  pillars, 
the  great  door,  the  cellar,  the  caves,  and  vaults,  and  hoped 
he  might  perhaps  find  something  there,  —  something  of  even 
greater  value  than  the  box. 

How  he  came  by  this  he  had,  in  the  interim,  informed  his 
father.  Creeping  through  the  cleft,  it  appeared  he  had  got 
down  into  an  open  space  pretty  well  lighted,  and  noticed  in 
the  corner  of  it  a  large  iron  chest,  the  lid  of  which,  though  it 
was  not  locked,  he  could  not  lift,  but  only  raise  a  very  little. 
To  get  into  this,  he  had  called  to  his  father  for  the  staves, 
which  he  had  employed  partly  as  props  under  the  lid,  partly  as 
levers  to  heave  it  up,  and  so  at  length  forcing  his  way  into  the 
chest,  had  found  it  wholly  empty,  except  for  the  little  box 
which  was  lying  in  one  of  the  nooks.  This  toy  they  had 
shown  Moutau,  who  agreed  with  them  in  opinion,  that  it 
should  be  kept  unopened,  and  no  violence  done  to  it ;  for  it 
could  not  be  unlocked  except  by  a  very  complicated  key. 

The  porter  declined  going  with  the  rest  to  the  Giant's 
Castle,  and  proceeded  down  the  smooth  footpath  by  himself. 
The  others  toiled  after  Fitz  through  moss  and  tangle,  and 
at  length  reached  the  natural  colonnade,  which,  towering 
over  a  huge  mass  of  fragments,  rose  black  and  wondrous 
into  the  air.  Yet,  without  much  regarding  what  he  saw 
before  his  eyes,  Felix  instantly  began  inquiring  for  the  other 
promised  marvels  ;  and,  as  none  of  them  was  to  be  seen,  Fitz 
could  excuse  himself  no  otherwise  than  by  declaring  that 
these  things  were  never  visible  except  on  Sundays  and 
particular  festivals,  and  then  only  for  a  few  hours.  The 
boys  remained  convinced  that  the  pillared  palace  was  a  work 
of  men's  hands :  Wilhelm  saw  well  that  it  was  a  work  of 
Nature,  but  he  could  have  wished  for  Montau  to  speak  with 
on  the  subject. 

They  now  proceeded  rapidly  down  hill,  through  a  wood  of 
high,  taper  larches,  which,  becoming  more  and  more  trans- 
parent, erelong  exposed  to  view  the  fairest  spot  you  can 
imagine,  lying  in  the  clearest  sunshine. 

A  large  garden,  seemingly  appropriated  to  use,  not  orna- 
ment, lay  richly  furnished  with  fruit-trees,  yet  open  before 
their  eyes  ;  for  the  ground,  sloping,  on  the  whole,  had  been 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  133! 

regularly  cut  into  a  number  of  divisions,  now  raised,  now 
hollowed  in  manifold  variety,  and  thus  exhibited  a  complex 
waving  surface.  Several  dwelling-houses  stood  scattered  up 
and  down,  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  space  belonged  to 
several  proprietors  ;  yet  Fitz  assured  them  that  one  individ- 
ual owned  and  directed  the  whole.  Beyond  the  garden 
stretched  a  boundless  landscape,  beautifully  cultivated  and 
planted,  in  which  lakes  and  rivers  might  be  distinguished  in 
the  distance. 

Still  descending,  they  had  approached  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  were  now  expecting  in  a  few  moments  to  be  in  the 
garden,  when  Wilhelm  all  at  once  stopped  short,  and  Fitz 
could  not  hide  his  roguish  satisfaction  ;  for  a  yawning  chasm 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  opened  before  them,  and  showed 
on  the  other  side  a  wall  which  had  hitherto  been  concealed, 
steep  enough  without,  though  within  it  was  quite  filled  up 
with  soil.  A  deep  trench,  therefore,  separated  them  from 
the  garden,  into  which  they  were  directly  looking.  "We 
have  still  a  good  circuit  to  make,"  said  Fitz,  "before  we 
get  the  road  that  leads  in.  However,  I  know  an  entrance  on 
this  side,  which  is  much  shorter.  The  vaults  where  the  hill- 
water  in  time  of  rain  is  let  through,  in  regular  quantities, 
into  the  garden,  open  here  :  they  are  high,  and  broad  enough 
for  one  to  walk  along  without  difficulty."  The  instant  Felix 
heard  of  vaults,  he  insisted  on  taking  this  passage  and  no 
other.  Wilhelm  followed  the  children ;  and  the  party  de- 
scended the  large  steps  of  this  covered  aqueduct,  which  was 
now  lying  quite  dry.  Down  below  they  found  themselves 
sometimes  in  light,  sometimes  in  darkness,  according  as  the 
side-openings  admitted  day,  or  the  walls  and  pillars  excluded 
it.  At  last  they  reached  a  pretty  even  space,  and  were 
slowly  proceeding,  when  all  at  once  a  shot  went  off  beside 
them  ;  and  at  the  same  time  two  secret  iron-grated  doors 
started  out,  and  enclosed  them  on  both  sides.  .Not,  indeed, 
the  whole  of  them :  Wilhelm  and  Felix  only  were  caught. 
For  Fitz,  the  instant  he  heard  the  shot,  sprang  back  ;  and 
the  closing  grate  caught  nothing  but  his  wide  sleeve  :  he  him- 
self, nimbly  throwing  off  his  jacket,  had  darted  away  without 
loss  of  a  moment. 

.  The  two  prisoners  had  scarcely  time  to  recover  from  their 
astonishment,  till  they  heard  voices,  which  appeared  to  be 
slowly  approaching.  In  a  little  while  some  armed  men  with 
torches  came  forward  to  the  grate,  looking  with  eager  eyes 
what  sort  of  capture  they  had  made.  At  the  same  time  they 


134  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

asked  if  the  prisoners  would  surrender  peaceably.  "  Surren- 
der is  not  the  word  here,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  we  are  already  in 
your  power.  It  is  rather  our  part  to  ask,  whether  you  will 
spare  us?  The  only  weapon  we  have,  I  give  up  to  you." 
And  with  these  words  he  handed  his  hanger  through  the 
grate :  this  opened  directly,  and  the  two  strangers  were  led 
forward  by  the  party  with  great  composure.  After  a  short 
while  they  found  themselves  in  a  singular  place  :  it  was  a 
spacious,  cleanly  apartment,  with  many  little  windows  at  the 
very  top  of  the  walls ;  and  these,  notwithstanding  the  thick 
iron  gratings,  admitted  light  enough.  Seats,  sleeping-places, 
and  whatever  else  is  expected  in  a  middling  inn,  had  been 
provided ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  any  one  placed  here  could 
want  nothing  but  freedom. 

Wilhelm,  directly  after  entering,  had  sat  down  to  consider 
his  situation :  Felix,  on  the  other  hand,  on  recovering  from 
his  astonishment,  broke  out  into  an  incredible  fury.  These 
large  walls,  these  high  windows,  these  strong  doors,  this 
seclusion,  this  restriction,  were  entirely  new  to  him.  He 
looked  round  and  round,  he  ran  hither  and  thither,  stamped 
with  his  feet,  wept,  rattled  the  doors,  struck  against  them  with 
his  fists,  nay,  was  even  on  the  point  of  running  at  them 
with  his  head,  had  not  Wilhelm  seized  him,  and  held  him 
fast  between  his  knees.  "  Do  but  look  at  the  thing  calmly, 
my  son,"  began  he;  "for  impatience  and  violence  cannot 
help  us.  The  mystery  will  clear  up ;  and  I  must  be  widely 
mistaken,  or  we  are  fallen  into  no  wicked  hands.  Read  these 
inscriptions  :  '  To  the  innocent,  deliverance  and  reparation  ; 
to  the  misled,  compassion ;  and,  to  the  guilty,  avenging  jus- 
tice.' All  this  bespeaks  to  us  that  these  establishments  are 
works,  not  of  cruelty,  but  of  necessity.  Men  have  but  too 
much  cause  to  secure  themselves  from  men.  Of  ill-wishers 
there  are  many,  of  ill-doers  not  few  ;  and,  to  live  fitly,  well- 
doing will  not  always  suffice."  Felix  still  sobbed;  but  he 
had  pacified  himself  in  some  degree,  more  by  the  caresses 
than  the  words  of  his  father.  "Let  this  experience,"  con- 
tinued Wilhelm,  "  which  thou  gainest  so  early  and  so  inno- 
cently, remain  a  lively  testimony  to  thy  mind,  in  how  complete 
and  accomplished  a  century  thou  livest.  What  a  journey 
had  human  nature  to  travel  before  it  reached  the  point  of 
being  mild,  even  to  the  guilty,  merciful  to  the  injurious,  hu- 
mane to  the  inhuman !  Doubtless  they  were  men  of  godlike 
souls  who  first  taught  this,  who  spent  their  lives  in  rendering 
the  practice  of  it  possible,  and  recommending  it  to  others. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  185 

Of  the  beautiful,  men  are  seldom  capable,  oftener  of  the 
good ;  and  how  highly  should  we  value  those  who  endeavor, 
with  great  sacrifices,  to  forward  that  good  among  their 
fellows!" 

Felix,  in  the  course  of  this  consolatory  speech,  had  fallen 
quietly  asleep  on  his  father's  bosom ;  and  scarcely  had  the 
latter  laid  him  down  on  one  of  the  ready-made  beds,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  a  man  of  prepossessing  appearance 
stepped  in.  After  looking  kindly  at  Wilhelm  for  some  time, 
he  began  to  inquire  about  the  circumstances  which  had  led 
him  by  the  private  passage,  and  into  this  predicament.  Wil- 
helm related  the  affair  as  it  stood,  produced  some  papers 
which  served  to  explain  who  he  was,,  and  referred  to  the 
porter,  who,  he  said,  must  soon  arrive  on  the  other  side,  by 
the  usual  road.  This  being  so  far  explained,  the  official 
person  invited  his  guest  to  follow  him.  Felix  could  not  be 
awakened,  and  his  father  carried  him  asleep  from  the  place 
which  had  incited  him  to  such  violent  passion. 

Wilhelm  followed  his  conductor  into  a  fair  garden-apart- 
ment, where  refreshments  were  set  down,  which  he  was  in- 
vited to  partake  of  ;  while  the  other  went  to  report  the  state 
of  matters  to  his  superior.  When  Felix,  on  awakening,  per- 
ceived a  little  covered  table,  fruit,  wine,  biscuit,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  the  cheerful  aspect  of  a  wide-open  door,  he  knew 
not  what  to  make  of  it.  He  ran  out,  he  ran  back  ;  he  thought 
he  had  been  dreaming  ;  and  in  a  little  while,  with  such  dainty 
fare  and  such  pleasant  sights,  the  preceding  terror  and  all 
his  obstruction  had  vanished  like  an  oppressive  vision  in  the 
brightness  of  morning. 

The  porter  had  arrived  ;  the  officer,  with  another  man  of  a 
still  friendlier  aspect,  brought  him  in  ;  and  the  business  now 
came  to  light,  as  follows  :  The  owner  of  this  property,  chari- 
table in  this  higher  sense,  that  he  studied  to  awaken  all 
round  him  to  activity  and  effort,  had,  for  several  years,  been 
accustomed,  from  his  boundless  young  plantations,  to  give 
out  the  small  wood  to  diligent  and  careful  cultivators,  gratis  ; 
to  the  negligent,  for  a  certain  price  ;  and  to  such  as  wished  to 
trade  in  it,  likewise  at  a  moderate  valuation.  But  these  two 
latter  classes,  also,  had  required  their  supplies  gratis,  as  the 
meritorious  were  treated;  and,  this  being  refused  them,  they 
had  attempted  stealing  trees.  Their  attempt  succeeded  in 
many  ways.  This  vexed  the  owner  the  more,  as  not  only 
were  the  plantations  plundered,  but,  by  too  early  thinning, 
often  ruined.  It  had  been  discovered  that  the  thieves  en- 


136  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

tered  by  this  aqueduct :  so  the  trap-gate  had  been  erected  in 
the  place,  with  a  spring-gun,  which,  however,  was  only  meant 
for  a  signal.  This  little  boy  had,  under  various  pretexts, 
often  made  his  appearance  in  the  garden  ;  and  nothing  was 
more  natural  than  that,  out  of  mischief  and  audacity,  he 
should  lead  the  stranger  by  a  road  which  he  had  formerly 
discovered  for  other  purposes.  The  people  could  have 
wished  to  get  hold  of  him  :  meanwhile,  his  little  jacket  was 
brought  in,  and  put  by  among  other  judicial  seizures. 

Wilhelm  was  now  made  acquainted  with  the  owner  and  his 
people,  and  by  them  received  with  the  friendliest  welcome. 
Of  this  family  we  shall  say  nothing  more  here,  as  some  fur- 
ther light  on  them  and  their  concerns  is  offered  us  by  the 
subsequent  history. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Wilhelm  to  Natalia. 

MAN  is  of  a  companionable,  conversing  nature :  his  de- 
light is  great  when  he  exercises  faculties  that  have  been 
given  him,  even  though  nothing  further  came  of  it.  How 
often  in  society  do  we  hear  the  complaint  that  one  will  not 
let  the  other  speak  ;  and  in  the  same  manner,  also,  we  might 
say,  that  one  would  not  let  the  other  write,  were  not  writing 
an  employment  commonly  transacted  in  private  and  alone. 

How  much  people  write,  one  could  scarcely  ever  conjecture. 
I  speak  not  of  what  is  printed,  though  that,  in  itself,  is 
abundant  enough,  but  of  all  that,  in  the  shape  of  letters 
and  memorials  and  narratives,  anecdotes,  descriptions  of 
present  circumstances  in  the  life  of  individuals,  sketches, 
and  larger  essays,  circulates  in  secret :  of  this  you  can  form 
no  idea,  till  you  have  lived  for  some  time  in  a  community  of 
cultivated  families,  as  I  am  now  doing.  In  the  sphere  where 
I  am  moving  at  present,  there  is  almost  as  much  time  em- 
ployed in  informing  friends  and  relatives  of  what  is  trans- 
acted as  was  employed  in  transacting  it.  This  observation, 
which  for  several  weeks  has  been  constantly  forced  on  me, 
I  now  make  with  the  more  pleasure,  as  the  writing  tendency 
of  my  new  friends  enables  me,  at  once  and  perfectly,  to  get 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  137 

acquainted  with  their  characters  and  circumstances.  I  am 
trusted :  a  sheaf  of  letters  is  given  to  me,  some  quires  of  a 
travelling-journal,  the  confessions  of  some  mind  not  yet  in 
unity  with  itself ;  and  thus  everywhere,  in  a  little  while,  I  am 
at  home.  I  know  the  neighboring  circle,  I  know  the  persons 
whose  acquaintance  I  am  to  obtain :  I  understand  them  bet- 
ter, almost,  than  they  do  themselves ;  seeing  they  are  still 
implicated  in  their  situation,  while  I  hover  lightly  past  them, 
ever  with  thy  hand  in  mine,  ever  speaking  with  thee  about 
all  I  see.  Indeed,  it  is  the  first  condition  I  make  before  ac- 
cepting any  confidence  offered  me,  that  I  may  impart  it  to 
thee.  Here,  accordingly,  are  some  letters  which  will  intro- 
duce thee  into  the  circle  in  which,  without  breaking  or  evad- 
ing my  vow,  I,  for  the  present,  revolve. 


THE   NUT-BROWN   MAID. 

Lenardo  to  Jiis  Aunt. 

AT  last,  dear  aunt,  after  three  years  you  receive  my  first 
letter,  conformably  to  our  engagement,  which,  in  truth,  was 
singular  enough.  I  wished  to  see  the  world  and  mingle  in  it, 
and  wished,  during  that  period,  to  forget  the  home  whence  I 
had  departed,  whither  I  hoped  to  return.  The  whole  impres- 
sion of  this  home  I  purposed  to  retain,  and  the  partial  and 
individual  was  not  to  confuse  me  at  a  distance.  Meanwhile 
the  necessary  tokens  of  life  and  welfare  have,  from  time  to 
time,  passed  to  and  fro  between  us.  I  have  regularly  received 
money,  and  little  presents  for  my  kindred  have  been  deliv- 
ered you  for  distribution.  By  the  wares  I  sent,  you  would 
see  how  and  where  I  was.  By  the  wines,  I  doubt  not  my 
uncle  has  tasted  out  my  several  places  of  abode ;  then  the 
laces,  knick-knacks,  steel  wares,  would  indicate  to  my  fair 
cousins  my  progress  through  Brabant,  by  Paris,  to  London  ; 
and  so,  on  their  writing-desks,  work-boxes,  tea-tables,  I  shall 
find  many  a  symbol  wherewith  to  connect  the  history  of  my 
journeyings.  You  have  accompanied  me  without  hearing  of 
me,  and,  perhaps,  may  care  little  about  knowing  more.  For 


138  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

me,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  highly  desirable  to  learn,  through 
your  kindness,  how  it  stands  with  the  circle  into  which  I  am 
once  more  entering.  I  would,  in  truth,  return  from  strange 
Countries  as  a  stranger,  who,  that  he  may  not  be  unpleasant, 
first  informs  himself  about  the  way  and  manner  of  the  house- 
hold ;  not  fancying,  that,  for  his  fine  e3-es  or  hair,  he  shall  be 
received  there  quite  in  his  own  fashion.  Write  to  me,  there- 
fore, of  my  worthy  uncle,  of  your  fair  nieces,  of  yourself,  of 
our  relations  near  and  distant,  of  servants  also,  old  and  new. 
In  short,  let  your  practised  pen,  which  for  so  long  a  time  you 
have  not  dipped  into  ink  for  your  nephew,  now  again  tint 
paper  in  his  favor.  Your  letter  of  news  shall  forthwith  be 
my  credential,  with  which  I  introduce  myself  so  soon  as  I 
obtain  it.  On  you,  therefore,  it  depends,  whether  }-ou  will 
see  rne  or  not.  We  alter  far  less  than  we  imagine  ;  and  cir- 
cumstances, too,  continue  much  as  they  were.  Not  only  what 
has  altered,  but  what  has  continued',  what  has  by  degrees 
waxed  and  waned,  do  I  now  wish  instantly  to  recognize  at 
my  return,  and  so  once  more  to  see  myself  in  a  well-known 
mirror.  Present  my  heartiest  salutations  to  all  our  people, 
and  believe,  that,  in  the  singular  manner  of  my  absence  and 
my  return,  there  may  lie  more  true  affection  than  is  often 
found  in  constant  participation  and  lively  intercourse.  A 
thousand  compliments  to  one  and  all ! 

Postscript.  —  Neglect  not,  also,  my  dear  aunt,  to  say  a 
word  or  two  about  our  dependants,  —  how  it  stands  with  our 
stewards  and  farmers.  What  has  become  of  Valerina,  the 
daughter  of  that  farmer  whom  my  uncle,  with  justice  cer- 
tainly, but  also,  as  I  thought,  with  some  severity,  ejected 
from  his  lands  when  I  went  away?  You  see,  I  still  remember 
many  a  particular :  I  still  know  all.  On  the  past  you  shall 
examine  me  when  you  have  told  me  of  the  present. 


The  Aunt  to  Julietta. 

At  last,  dear  children,  a  letter  from  our  three-years'  speech- 
less traveller.  What  strange  beings  these  strange  men  are  ! 
He  will  have  it  that  his  wares  and  tokens  were  as  good  as  so 
many  kind  words,  which  friend  may  speak  or  write  to  friend. 
He  actually  fancies  himself  our  creditor,  requires  from  us,  in 
the  first  place,  the  performance  of  that  service  which  he  so 
unkindly  refused.  What  is  to  be  done?  For  me,  I  should 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  139 

have  met  his  wishes  forthwith  in  a  long  letter,  did  not  this 
headache  signify  too  clearly  that  the  present  sheet  can  scarcely 
be  filled.  We  all  long  to  see  him.  Do  you,  my  dears,  under- 
take the  business.  Should  I  be  recovered  before  you  have 
done,  I  will  contribute  my  share.  Choose  the  persons  and 
circumstances,  as  you  like  best  to  describe  them.  Divide 
the  task.  You  will  do  it  all  far  better  than  I.  The  messen- 
ger will  bring  me  back  a  note  from  you. 

Julietta  to  her  Aunt. 

We  have  read  and  considered,  and  now  send  you  by  the 
messenger  our  view  of  the  matter,  each  in  particular ;  having 
first  jointly  signified  that  we  are  not  so  charitable  as  our  dear 
aunt  to  her  ever  perverse  nephew.  Now,  when  he  has  kept 
his  cards  hid  from  us  for  three  years,  and  still  keeps  them 
hid,  we,  forsooth,  are  to  spread  ours  on  the  table,  and  play 
an  open  against  a  secret  game.  This  is  not  fair,  and  yet  let 
it  pass  ;  for  the  craftiest  is  often  caught,  simply  by  his  own 
over-anxious  precautions.  But,  as  to  the  way  and  manner  of 
transacting  this  commission,  we  are  not  agreed.  To  write 
of  our  familiars  as  we  think  of  them  is  for  us,  at  least,  a 
very  strange  problem.  Commonly  we  do  not  think  of  them 
at  all,  except  in  this  or  that  particular  case,  when  they  give  us 
some  peculiar  satisfaction  or  vexation.  At  other  times.,  each 
lets  his  neighbor  go  his  way.  You  alone  could  manage  it, 
dear  aunt ;  for  you  have  both  the  penetration  and  the  toler- 
ance. Hersilia,  who,  you  know,  is  not  difficult  to  kindle,  has 
just,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  given  me  a  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  whole  family  in  all  the  graces  of  caricature.  I  wish 
it  stood  on  paper,  to  entice  a  smile  from  yourself  in  your  ill- 
ness, but  not  that  I  would  have  it  sent.  My  own  project  is, 
to  lay  before  him  our  correspondence  for  these  three  years : 
then  let  him  read,  if  he  have  the  heart ;  or  let  him  come  and 
see  with  his  eyes,  if  he  have  not.  Your  letters  to  me,  dear 
aunt,  are  in  the  best  order,  and  all  at  your  service.  Hersilia 
dissents  from  this  opinion,  excuses  herself  with  the  disorder 
of  her  papers,  and  so  forth,  as  she  will  tell  you  herself. 

Hersilia  to  her  Aunt. 

I  will  and  must  be  very  brief,  dear  aunt ;  for  the  messenger 
is  clownishly  impatient.  I  reckon  it  an  excess  of  generosity, 


140  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

and  not  at  all  in  season,  to  submit  our  correspondence  to 
Lenardo.  What  has  he  to  do  with  knowing  all  the  good  we 
have  said  of  him,  with  knowing  all  the  ill  we  have  said  of 
him,  and  finding  out  from  the  latter,  still  more  than  from  the 
former,  that  we  like  him  ?  Hold  him  tight,  I  entreat  you  ! 
There  is  something  so  precise  and  presumptuous  in  this  de- 
mand, in  this  conduct,  of  his, — just  the  fashion  of  your 
young  gentlemen  when  they  return  from  foreign  parts.  They 
can  never  look  on  those  who  have  staid  at  home  as  full-grown 
persons,  like  themselves.  Make  your  headache  an  excuse. 
He  will  come,  doubtless  ;  and,  if  he  do  not  come,  we  can  wait 
a  little.  Perhaps  his  next  idea  may  be,  to  introduce  himself 
in  some  strange,  secret  way,  to  become  acquainted  with  us 
in  disguise  ;  and  who  knows  what  more  may  be  included  in 
the  plan  of  so  deep  a  gentleman  ?  How  pretty  and  curious 
this  would  be  !  It  could  not  fail  to  bring  about  all  manner 
of  embroilments  and  developments,  far  grander  than  any 
that  could  be  produced  by  such  a  diplomatic  entrance  into 
his  family  as  he  now  purposes. 

The  messenger  !  The  messenger  !  Bring  up  your  old  peo- 
ple better,  or  send  young  ones.  This  man  is  neither  to  be 
pacified  with  flattery  nor  wine.  A  thousand  farewells  ! 

Postscript  for  Postscript.  —  What  does  our  cousin  want, 
will  3Tou  tell  me,  with  Ins  postscript  of  Valerina  ?  This  ques- 
tion of  his  has  struck  me  doubly.  She  is  the  only  person 
whom  he  mentions  by  name.  The  rest  of  us  are  nieces,  aunts, 
stewards,  —  not  persons,  but  titles.  Valeriua,  our  lawyer's 
daughter  !  In  truth,  a  pretty,  fair-haired  girl,  that  may  have 
glanced  in  our  gallant  cousin's  eyes  before  he  went  away. 
She  is  married  well  and  happily  :  this  to  you  is  no  news  ;  but 
to  him  it  is,  of  course,  as  unknown  as  every  thing  that  has 
occurred  here.  Forget  not  to  inform  him,  in  a  postscript, 
that  Valerina  grew  daily  more  and  more  beautiful,  and  so  at 
last  made  a  very  good  match.  That  she  is  the  wife  of  a  rich 
proprietor.  That  the  lovely,  fair-haired  maid  is  married. 
Make  it  perfectly  distinct  to  him.  But  neither  is  this  all, 
dear  aunt.  How  the  man  can  so  accurately  remember  his 
flaxen-headed  beauty,  and  }-et  confound  her  with  the  daughter 
of  that  worthless  farmer,  with  a  wild  humble-bee  of  a  bru- 
nette, whose  name  was  Nachodina,  and  who  went  away, 
Heaven  knows  whither,  —  this,  1  declare  to  you,  remains 
entirely  incomprehensible,  and  puzzles  me  quite  excessively. 
For  it  seems  as  if  our  pretty  cousin,  who  prides  himself  on 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  141 

his  good  memory,  could  change  names  and  persons  to  a  very 
strange  degree.  Perhaps  he  feels  this  obscurely  himself, 
and  would  have  the  faded  image  refreshed  by  your  delinea- 
tion. Hold  him  tight,  I  beg  of  you  !  but  try  to  learn,  for  our 
own  behoof,  how  it  does  stand  with  these  Valerinas  and 
Nachodinas,  and  how  many  more  Inas  and  Trinas  have  re- 
tained their  place  in  his  imagination,  while  the  poor  Ettas 
and  Ilias  have  vanished.  The  messenger!  The  cursed 
messenger ! 

The  Aunt  to  her  Nieces. 
(DICTATED.  ) 

Why  should  we  dissemble  towards  those  we  have  to  spend 
our  life  with?  Lenardo,  with  all  his  peculiarities,  deserves 
confidence.  I  send  him  both  your  letters  ;  from  these  he  will 
get  a  view  of  you :  and  the  rest  of  us,  I  hope,  will  erelong 
unconsciously  find  occasion  to  depict  ourselves  before  him 
likewise.  Farewell !  My  head  is  very  painful. 

Hersilia  to  her  Aunt. 

Why  should  we  dissemble  towards  those  we  have  to  spend 
our  life  with?  Lenardo  is  a  spoiled  nephew.  It  is  horrible 
in  you  to  send  him  our  letters.  From  these  he  will  get  no 
real  view  of  us  ;  and  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  for  oppor- 
tunity to  let  him  view  me  in  some  other  light.  You  give 
pain  to  others,  while  you  are  in  pain  yourself,  and  blind  to 
boot.  Quick  recovery  to  your  head !  Your  heart  is  irrecov- 
erable. 

The  Aunt  to  Hersilia. 

Thy  last  note  I  should  likewise  have  packed  in  for  Le- 
nardo, had  I  happened  to  continue  by  the  purpose  which  my 
irrecoverable  heart,  my  sick  head,  and  my  love  of  ease,  sug- 
gested to  me.  Your  letters  are  not  gone.  I  am  just  parting 
with  the  young  man  who  has  been  for  some  time  living  in  our 
circle,  who,  by  the  strangest  chance,  has  come  to  know  us 
pretty  well,  and  is,  withal,  of  an  intelligent  and  kindly 
nature.  Him  I  am  despatching.  He  undertakes  the  task 
with  great  readiness.  He  will  prepare  our  nephew,  and 
send  or  bring  him.  Thus  can  your  aunt  recollect  herself  in 


142  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

the  course  of  a  rash  enterprise,  and  bend  into  another  path. 
Hersilia  also  will  take .  thought,  and  a  friendly  revocation 
will  not  long  be  wanting  from  her  hand. 

Wilhelm  having  accurately  and  circumstantially  fulfilled 
this  task,  Leuardo  answered  with  a  smile,  "  Much  as  I  am 
obliged  to  you  for  what  you  tell  me,  I  must  still  put  another 
question.  Did  not  my  aunt,  in  conclusion,  request  you  also 
to  inform  me  of  another,  and,  seemingly,  an  unimportant, 
matter?  " 

Wilhelm  thought  a  moment.  "Yes,"  said  he  then:  "I 
remember.  She  mentioned  a  lady,  named  Valerina.  Of  her 
I  was  to  tell  you  that  she  is  happily  wedded,  and  every  way 
well." 

"  You  roll  a  stone  from  my  heart,"  replied  Lenardo.  "  I 
now  gladly  return  home,  since  I  need  not  fear  that  my  recol- 
lection of  this  girl  can  reproach  me  there." 

"  It  beseems  not  me  to  inquire  what  relation  you  have  had  to 
her,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  only  you  may  be  at  ease  if  in  any  way 
you  feel  concerned  for  her  fortunes." 

"  It  is  the  strangest  relation  in  the  world,"  returned  Le- 
nardo, —  "  nowise  a  love-matter,  as  you  might,  perhaps,  con- 
jecture. I  may  confide  in  you,  and  tell  it ;  as,  indeed,  there 
is  next  to  nothing  to  be  told.  But  what  must  you  think, 
when  I  assure  you  that  this  faltering  in  my  return,  this  fear 
of  revisiting  our  family,  these  strange  preparatives,  and 
inquiries  how  things  looked  at  home,  had  no  other  object 
but  to  learn,  by  the  way,  how  it  stood  with  this  young 
woman? 

"For  3rou  will  believe,"  continued  he,  "I  am  very  well 
aware  that  we  may  leave  people  whom  we  know  without  find- 
ing them,  even  after  a  considerable  time,  much  altered ;  and 
so  I  likewise  expect  very  soon  to  be  quite  at  home  with  my 
relatives.  This  single  being  only  gave  me  pause :  her  for- 
tune, I  knew,  must  have  changed ;  and,  thank  Heaven,  it 
has  changed  for  the  better." 

"  You  excite  my  curiosity,"  said  Wilhelm.  "  There  must 
be  something  singular  in  this." 

"I,  at  least,  think  it  so,"  replied  Lenardo,  and  began  his 
narrative  as  follows  :  — 

"  To  accomplish,  in  my  youth,  the  grand  adventure  of  a 
tour  through  cultivated  Europe  was  a  fixed  purpose,  which  I 
had  entertained  from  boyhood ;  but  the  execution  of  which 
was,  as  usually  happens  in  these  things,  from  time  to  time 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  143 

postponed.  What  was  at  hand  attracted  me,  retained  me  ; 
and  the  distant  lost  more  and  more  of  its  charms  the  more  I 
read  of  it  or  heard  it  talked  of.  However,  at  last,  incited 
by  my  uncle,  allured  by  friends  who  had  gone  forth  into  the 
world  before  me,  I  did  form  the  resolution,  and  that  more 
rapidly  than  any  one  had  been  expecting. 

"  My  uncle,  who  had  to  afford  the  main  requisite  for  my 
enterprise,  directly  made  this  his  chief  concern.  You  know 
him,  and  the  way  he  has,  —  how  he  still  rushes  with  his 
whole  force  on  one  single  object,  and  every  thing  else  in  the 
mean  while  must  rest  and  be  silent :  by  which  means,  indeed, 
he  has  effected  much  that  seemed  to  lie  beyond  the  influence 
of  any  private  man.  This  journey  came  upon  him,  in  some 
degree,  unawares ;  yet  he  very  soon  took  his  measures. 
Some  buildings  which  he  had  planned,  nay,  even  begun,  were 
abandoned ;  and,  as  he  never  on  any  account  meddles  with 
his  accumulated  stock,  he  looked  about  him,  as  a  prudent 
financier,  for  other  ways  and  means.  The  most  obvious 
plan  was,  to  call  in  outstanding  debts,  especially  remainders 
of  rent ;  for  this,  also,  was  one  of  his  habits,  that  he  was 
indulgent  to  debtors,  so  long  as  he  himself  had,  to  a  certain 
degree,  no  need  of  money.  He  gave  his  steward  the  list, 
with  orders  to  manage  the  business.  Of  individual  cases  we 
learned  nothing:  only  I  heard  transiently,  that  the  farmer 
of  one  of  our  estates,  with  whom  my  uncle  had  long  exercised 
patience,  was  at  last  actually  to  be  ejected ;  his  cautionary 
pledge,  a  scanty  supplement  to  the  produce  of  this  prosecu- 
tion, to  be  retained,  and  the  land  to  be  let  to  some  other 
person.  This  man  was  of  a  religious  turn,  but  not,  like 
others  of  his  sect  among  us,  shrewd  and  active  withal ;  for 
his  piety  and  his  goodness  he  was  loved  by  his  neighbors, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  censured  for  his  weakness,  as  the 
master  of  a  house.  After  the  death  of  his  wife,  a  daughter, 
whom  we  usually  named  the  Nut-brown  Maid,  though  already 
giving  promise  of  activity  and  resolution,  was  still  too  young 
for  taking  a  decisive  management :  in  short,  the  man  went 
back  in  his  affairs ;  and  my  uncle's  indulgence  had  not 
stayed  the  sinking  of  his  fortune. 

"I  had  my  journey  in  my  head,  and  could  not  quarrel 
with  the  means  for  accomplishing  it.  All  was  ready  :  pack- 
ing and  sorting  went  forward  ;  every  moment  was  becoming 
full  of  business.  One  evening  I  was  strolling  through  the 
park  for  the  last  time,  to  take  leave  of  my  familiar  trees 
bushes,  when  all  at  once  Valeriua  stepped  into  my  way, 


144  'MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

—  for  such  was  the  girl's  name :  the  other  was  but  a  by- 
name, occasioned  by  her  brown  complexion.  She  stepped 
into  my  way." 

Lenardo  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  considering.  "  How 
is  this,  then?"  said  he.  "Was  her  name  really  Valerina? 
Yes,  surely,"  he  continued;  "but  the  by-name  was  more 
common.  In  short,  the  brown  maid  came  into  my  path,  and 
pressingly  entreated  me  to  speak  a  good  word  for  her  father, 
for  herself,  to  my  uncle.  Knowing  how  the  matter  stood, 
and  seeing  clearly  that  it  would  be  difficult,  nay,  impossible, 
to  do  her  any  service  at  this  moment,  I  candidly  told  her  so, 
and  set  before  her  the  blameworthiuess  of  her  father  in  an 
unfavorable  light. 

"  She  answered  this  with  so  much  clearness,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  with  so  much  filial  mitigation  and  love,  that  quite 
gained  me ;  and,  had  it  been  my  own  money,  I  should 
instantly  have  made  her  happy  by  granting  her  request. 
But  it  was  my  uncle's  income  ;  these  were  his  arrangements, 
his  orders :  with  such  a  temper  as  his,  to  attempt  altering 
aught  that  had  been  done  was  hopeless.  From  of  old  I  had 
looked  on  a  promise  as  in  the  highest  degree  sacred.  Who- 
ever asked  any  thing  of  me  embarrassed  me.  I  had  so  ac- 
customed myself  to  refuse,  that  I  did  not  even  promise 
what  I  purposed  to  perform.  This  habit  came  in  good  stead 
in  the  present  instance.  Her  arguments  turned  on  individu- 
ality and  affection,  mine  on  duty  and  reason  ;  and  I  will  not 
deny  that  at  last  they  seemed  too  harsh,  even  to  myself. 
Already  we  had  more  than  once  repeated  our  topics  without 
convincing  one  another,  when  necessity  made  her  more  elo- 
quent :  the  inevitable  ruin  which  she  saw  before  her  pressed 
tears  from  her  eyes.  Her  collected  manner  she  entirely  lost : 
she  spoke  with  vivacity,  with  emotion  ;  and,  as  I  still  kept 
up  a  show  of  coldness  and  composure,  her  whole  soul  turned 
itself  outwards.  I  wished  to  end  the  scene  ;  but  all  at  once 
she  was  loing  at  my  feet,  had  seized  my  hand,  kissed  it,  and 
was  looking  up  to  me,  so  good,  so  gentle,  with  such  suppli- 
cating loveliness,  that,  in  the  haste  of  the  moment,  I  forgot 
myself.  Hurriedly  I  said,  while  raising  her  from  her  kneel- 
ing posture,  '  I  will  do  what  is  possible  :  compose  thyself,  my 
child  !  '  and  so  turned  into  a  side-path.  '  Do  what  is  impos- 
sible !  '  cried  she  after  me.  I  now  knew  not  what  I  was 
saying,  but  answered,  'I  will,'  and  hesitated.  'Do  it!' 
cried  she,  at  once  enlivened,  and  with  a  heavenly  expression 
of  hope.  I  waved  a  salutation  to  her,  and  hastened  away. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  145 

"To  my  uncle  I  did  not  mean  to  apply  directly;  for  I 
knew  too  well  that  with  him  it  was  vain  to  speak  about  the 
partial,  when  his  purpose  was  the  whole.  I  inquired  for 
the  steward ;  he  had  ridden  off  to  a  distance  :  visitors  came 
in  the  evening,  friends  wishing  to  take  leave  of  me.  They 
supped  and  played  till  far  in  the  night.  They  continued 
next  da}*,  and  their  presence  effaced  the  image  of  my  im- 
porunate  petitioner.  The  steward  returned :  he  was  busier 
and  more  overloaded  than  ever.  All  were  asking  for  him : 
he  had  no  time  to  hear  me.  However,  I  did  make  an  effort 
to  detain  him  ;  but  scarcely  had  I  named  that  pious  farmer, 
when  he  eagerly  repelled  the  proposal.  '  For  Heaven's  sake, 
not  a  word  of  this  to  your  uncle,  if  you  would  not  have  a 
quarrel  with  him ! '  The  day  of  my  departure  was  fixed :  I 
had  letters  to  write,  guests  to  receive,  visits  in  the  neighbor- 
hood to  pay.  My  servants  had  been  hitherto  sufficient  for 
my  wants,  but  were  nowise  adequate  to  forward  the  arrange- 
ments of  a  distant  journey.  All  lay  on  my  own  hands  ;  and 
yet,  when  the  steward  appointed  me  an  hour  in  the  night  be- 
fore my  departure  to  settle  our  money  concerns,  I  neglected 
not  again  to  solicit  him  for  Valerina's  father. 

"  '  Dear  baron,'  said  the  unstable  man,  '  how  can  such  a 
thing  ever  come  into  your  head  ?  To-day  already  I  have  had 
a  hard  piece  of  work  with  your  uncle,  for  the  sum  you  need 
is  turning  out  to  be  far  higher  than  we  reckoned  on.  This 
is  natural  enough,  but  not  the  less  perplexing.  To  the  old 
gentleman  it  is  especially  unwelcome,  when  a  business  seems 
concluded,  and  yet  many  odds  and  ends  are  found  straggling 
after  it.  This  is  often  the  case,  and  I  and  the  rest  have  to 
take  the  brunt  of  it.  As  to  the  rigor  with  which  the  out- 
standing debts  were  to  be  gathered  in,  he  himself  laid  down 
the  law  to  me :  he  is  at  one  with  himself  on  this  point,  and 
it  would  be  no  easy  task  to  move  him  to  indulgence.  Do 
not  try  it,  I  beg  of  you  !  It  is  quite  in  vain.' 

"I  let  him  deter  me  from  my  attempt,  but  not  entirely.  I 
pressed  him,  since  the  execution  of  the  business  depended 
on  himself,  to  act  with  mildness  and  mercy.  He  promised 
every  thing,  according  to  the  fashion  of  such  persons,  for 
the  sake  of  momentary  peace.  He  got  quit  of  me :  the 
bustle,  the  hurry  of  business,  increased.  I  was  in  my  car- 
riage, and  had  turned  my  back  on  all  home  concerns. 

tvA  keen  impression  is  like  any  other  wound :  we  do  not 
feel  it  in  receiving  it.  Not  till  afterwards  does  it  begin  to 
smart  and  gangrene.  So  was  it  with  me  in  regard  to  this 


146  MKISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

occurrence  in  the  park.  Whenever  I  was  solitary,  whenever 
I  was  unemployed,  that  image  of  the  entreating  maiden,  with 
the  whole  accompaniment,  with  every  tree  and  bush,  the  place 
where  she  knelt,  the  side-path  I  took  to  get  rid  of  her,  the 
whole  scene,  rose  like  a  fresh  picture  before  my  soul.  It 
was  an  indestructible  impression,  which,  by  other  images  and 
interests,  might  indeed  be  shaded  or  overhung,  but  never 
obliterated.  Still,  in  every  quiet  hour,  she  came  before  me  ; 
and,  the  longer  it  lasted,  the  more  painful  did  I  feel  the  blame 
which  I  had  incurred  against  my  principles,  against  my  cus- 
tom, though  not  expressly,  only  while  hesitating,  and  for  the 
first  time  caught  in  such  a  perplexity. 

"I  failed  not,  in  my  earliest  letters,  to  inquire  of  our 
steward  how  the  business  had  turned.  He  answered  evas- 
ively. Then  he  engaged  to  explain  this  point ;  then  he 
wrote  ambiguously ;  at  last  he  became  silent  altogether. 
Distance  increased  ;  more  objects  came  between  me  and  my 
home ;  I  was  called  to  many  new  observations,  many  new 
sympathies ;  the  image  faded  away,  the  maiden  herself ,  al- 
most to  the  name.  The  remembrance  of  her  came  more 
rarely  before  me  ;  and  my  whim  of  keeping  up  my  inter- 
course with  home,  not  by  letters,  but  by  tokens,  tended 
gradually  to  make  my  previous  situation,  with  all  its  circum- 
stances, nearly  vanish  from  my  mind.  Now,  however,  when 
I  am  again  returning  home,  when  I  am  purposing  to  repay 
my  family  with  interest  what  I  have  so  long  owed  it,  now  at 
last  this  strange  repentance,  strange  I  myself  must  call  it, 
falls  on  me  with  its  whole  weight.  The  form  of  the  maiden 
brightens  up  with  the  forms  of  my  relatives :  and  I  dread 
nothing  more  deeply  than  to  learn,  that,  in  the  misery  into 
which  I  drove  her,  she  has  sunk  to  ruin ;  for  my  negligence 
appears  in  my  own  mind  an  abetting  of  her  destruction,  a 
furtherance  of  her  mournful  destiny.  A  thousand  times  I 
have  told  myself  that  this  feeling  was  at  bottom  but  a  weak- 
ness ;  that  my  early  adoption  of  the  principle,  never  to 
promise,  had  originated  in  my  fear  of  repentance,  not  in  any 
noble  sentiment.  And  now  it  seems  as  if  Repentance,  which 
I  had  fled  from,  meant  to  avenge  herself  by  seizing  this  in- 
cident, instead  of  hundreds,  to  pain  me.  Yet  is  the  picture, 
the  imagination  which  torments  me,  so  agreeable  withal,  so 
lovely,  that  I  like  to  linger  over  it.  And,  when  I  think  of 
the  scene,  that  kiss  which  she  imprinted  on  my  hand  still 
seems  to  burn  there." 

Lenardo  was  silent;  and  Wilhelm  answered  quickly  and 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  147 

gayly,  "  It  appears,  then,  I  could  have  done  you  no  greater 
service  than  by  that  appendix  to  my  narrative  ;  as  we  often 
find  in  the  postscript  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  letter. 
In  truth,  I  know  little  of  Valerina,  for  I  heard  of  her  only 
in  passing :  but,  for  certain,  she  is  the  wife  of  a  prosperous 
land-owner,  and  lives  happily ;  as  your  aunt  assured  me  on 
taking  leave." 

"  Good  and  well,"  said  Lenardo,:  "  now  there  is  nothing 
to  detain  me.  You  have  given  me  absolution  :  let  us  now  to 
my  friends,  who  have  already  waited  for  me  too  long."  To 
this  Wilhelm  answered,  "Unhappily  I  cannot  attend  you; 
for  a  strange  obligation  lies  on  me  to  continue  nowhere  longer 
than  three  days,  and  not  to  revisit  any  place  in  less  than  a 
year.  Pardon  me,  if  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  mention  the 
cause  of  this  singularity." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Lenardo,  "  that  we  are  to  lose 
you  so  soon  ;  that  I  cannot,  in  my  turn,  do  any  thing  for  you. 
But,  since  you  are  already  in  the  way  of  showing  me  kind- 
ness, you  might  make  me  very  happy  if  you  pleased  to  visit 
Valerina,  to  inform  yourself  accurately  of  her  situation,  and 
then  to  let  me  have  in  writing  or  in  speech  (a  place  of  meet- 
ing might  easily  be  found,)  express  intelligence  for  my 
complete  composure." 

This  proposal  was  further  discussed :  Valerina' s  place  of 
residence  had  been  named  to  Wilhelm.  He  engaged  to  visit 
her :  a  place  of  meeting  was  appointed,  to  which  the  baron 
should  come,  bringing  Felix  with  him,  who  in  the  mean  while 
had  remained  with  the  ladies. 

Lenardo  and  Wilhelm  had  proceeded  on  their  way  for  some 
time,  riding  together  through  pleasant  fields,  with  abundance 
of  conversation,  when  at  last  they  approached  the  highway, 
and  found  the  baron's  coach  in  waiting,  now  ready  to  revisit, 
with  its  owner,  the  spot  it  had  left  three  years  before.  Here 
the  friends  were  to  part ;  and  Wilhelm,  with  a  few  kindly 
words,  took  his  leave,  again  promising  the  baron  speedy 
news  of  Valerina. 

"  Now,  when  I  bethink  me,"  said  Lenardo,  "  that  it  were 
but  a  small  circuit  if  I  accompanied  you,  why  should  I  not 
visit  Valerina  myself?  Why  not  witness  with  my  own  eyes 
her  happy  situation  ?  You  were  so  friendly  as  to  engage  to 
be  my  messenger,  why  should  you  not  be  my  companion? 
For  some  companion  I  must  have,  some  moral  counsel ;  as 
we  {alee  legal  counsel  to  assist  us,  when  we  think  ourselves 
inadequate  to  the  perplexities  of  a  process." 


148  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Wilhelm's  objections,  that  the  friends  at  home  would  be 
anxiously  expecting  the  long-absent  traveller,  that  it  would 
produce  a  strange  impression  if  the  carriage  came  alone,  and 
other  reasons  of  the  like  sort,  had  no  weight  with  Lenardo  ; 
and  Wilhelm  was  obliged  at  last  to  resolve  on  acting  the 
companion  to  the  baron,  a  task  on  which,  considering  the 
consequences  that  might  be  apprehended,  he  entered  with  no 
great  alacrity.  . 

Accordingly  the  servants  were  instructed  what  to  say  on 
their  arrival,  and  the  two  friends  now  took  the  road  for 
Valerina's  house.  The  neighborhood  appeared  rich  and  fer- 
tile, the  true  seat  of  agriculture.  Especially  the  grounds  of 
Valerina's  husband  seemed  to  be  managed  with  great  skill 
and  care.  Wilhelm  had  leisure  to  survey  the  landscape  ac- 
curately, while  Lenardo  rode  in  silence  beside  him.  At  last 
the  latter  said,  "Another  in  my  place  would  perhaps  try 
to  meet  Valerina  undiscovered,  for  it  is  always  a  painful 
feeling  to  appear  before  those  whom  we  have  injured ;  but  I 
had  rather  front  this,  and  bear  the  reproach  which  I  have  to 
dread  from  her  first  look,  than  secure  myself  from  it  by  dis- 
guise and  untruth.  Untruth  may  bring  us  into  embarrass- 
ment quite  as  well  as  truth ;  and,  when  we  reckon  up  how 
often  the  former  or  the  latter  profits  us,  it  really  seems  most 
prudent,  once  for  all,  to  devote  ourselves  to  what  is  true. 
Let  us  go  forward,  therefore,  with  cheerful  minds :  I  will 
give  my  name,  and  introduce  you  as  my  friend  and  fellow- 
traveller.  ' ' 

They  had  now  reached  the  house,  and  dismounted  in  the 
court.  A  portly  man,  plainly  dressed,  whom  you  might  have 
taken  for  a  farmer,  came  out  to  them,  and  announced  him- 
self as  master  of  the  family.  Lenardo  named  himself  ;  and 
the  landlord  seemed  highly  delighted  to  see  him,  and  obtain 
his  acquaintance.  "  What  will  my  wife  say,"  cried  he, 
"  when  she  again  meets  the  nephew  of  her  benefactor?  She 
never  tires  of  recounting  and  reckoning  up  what  her  father 
owes  your  uncle." 

What  strange  thoughts  rushed  in  rapid  disorder  through 
Lenardo's  mind!  "Does  this  man,  who  looks  so  honest- 
minded,  hide  his  bitterness  under  a  friendly  countenance 
and  smooth  words?  Can  he  give  his  reproaches  so  courteous 
an  outside?  For  did  not  my  uncle  reduce  that  family  to 
misery?  Andean  the  man  be  ignorant  of  this?  Or,"  so 
thought  he  to  himself,  with  quick  hope,  "  has  the  business 
not  been  so  bad  as  thou  supposest?  For  no  decisive  iutel- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  149 

ligence  has  ever  yet  reached  thee."  Such  conjectures  alter- 
nated this  wa\-  and  that,  while  the  landlord  was  ordering  out 
his  carriage  to  bring  home  his  wife,  who,  it  appeared,  was 
paying  a  visit  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  If,  in  the  mean  while,  till  my  wife  return,"  said  the 
latter,  "  I  might  entertain  you  in  my  own  way,  and  at  the 
same  time  carry  on  my  duties,  say  you  walk  a  few  steps 
with  me  into  the  fields,  and  look  about  you  how  I  manage 
my  husbandry ;  for,  no  doubt,  to  you,  as  a  great  proprietor 
of  land,  there  is  nothing  of  more  near  concernment  than  the 
noble  science,  the  noble  art,  of  agriculture." 

Lenardo  made  no  objection :  Wilhelm  liked  to  gather  in- 
formation. The  landlord  had  his  ground,  which  he  pos- 
sessed and  ruled  without  restriction,  under  the  most  perfect 
treatment ;  what  he  undertook  was  adapted  to  his  purpose  ; 
what  he  sowed  and  planted  was  always  in  the  right  place ; 
and  he  could  so  clearly  explain  his  mode  of  procedure,  and 
the  reasons  of  it,  that  every  one  comprehended  him,  and 
thought  it  possible  for  himself  to  do  the  same,  —  a  mistake 
one  is  apt  to  fall  into  on  looking  at  a  master,  in  whose  hand 
all  moves  as  it  should  do. 

The  strangers  expressed  their  satisfaction,  and  had  noth- 
ing but  praise  and  approval  to  pronounce  on  every  thing  they 
saw.  He  received  it  gratefully  and  kindly,  and  at  last 
added,  "  Now,  however,  I  must  show  you  my  weak  side,  a 
quality  discernible  in  every  one  that  yields  himself  exclusively 
to  one  pursuit."  He  led  them  to  his  court-yard,  showed 
them  his  implements,  his  store  of  these,  and,  besides  this,  a 
store  of  all  imaginable  sorts  of  farm-gear,  with  its  appurte- 
nances, kept  by  way  of  specimen.  u  I  am  often  blamed," 
said  he,  "for  going  too  far  in  this  matter;  but  I  cannot 
quite  blame  myself.  Happy  is  he  to  whom  his  business  itself 
becomes  a  puppet,  who,  at  length,  can  play  with  it,  and 
amuse  himself  with  what  his  situation  makes  his  duty." 

The  two  friends  were  not  behindhand  with  their  questions 
and  examinations.  Wilhelm,  in  particular,  delighted  in  the 
general  observations  which  this  man  appeared  to  have  a  turn 
for  making,  and  failed  not  to  answer  them  ;  while  the  baron, 
more  immersed  in  his  own  thoughts,  took  silent  pleasure  in 
the  happiness  of  Valerina,  which,  in  this  situation,  he  reck- 
oned sure,  yet  felt  underhand  a  certain  faint  shadow  of  dis- 
satisfaction, of  which  he  could  give  himself  no  account. 

Tlie"  party  had  returned  within  doors,  when  the  lady's  car- 
riage drove  up.  They  hastened  out  to  meet  her ;  but  what 


150  MEISTEll'S   TRAVELS. 

was  Lenardo's  amazement,  his  fright,  when  she  stepped 
forth !  This  was  not  the  person  :  this  was  no  nut-brown 
maid,  but  directly  the  reverse, — a  fair,  slim  form,  in  truth, 
but  light-haired,  and  possessing  all  the  charms  which  be- 
longed to  that  complexion. 

This  beauty,  this  grace,  affrighted  Lenardo.  His  eyes  had 
sought  the  brown  maiden :  now  quite  a  different  figure 
glanced  before  them.  These  features,  too,  he  recollected ; 
her  words,  her  manners,  soon  banished  all  uncertainty ;  it 
was  the  daughter  of  the  lawyer,  a  man  who  stood  in  high 
favor  with  the  uncle ;  for  which  reason  also  the  dowry  had 
been  so  handsome,  and  the  new  pair  so  generously  dealt 
with.  All  this,  and  much  more,  was  gayly  recounted  by  the 
young  wife  as  an  introductory  salutation,  and  with  such  a 
joy  as  the  surprise  of  an  unexpected  meeting  naturally  gives 
rise  to.  The  question,  whether  they  could  recognize  each 
other,  was  mutually  put  and  answered :  the  changes  in  look 
were  talked  of,  which  in  persons  of  that  age  are  found 
notable  enough.  Valeriua  was  at  all  times  agreeable,  but 
lovely  in  a  high  degree  when  any  joyful  feeling  raised  her 
above  her  usual  level  of  indifference.  The  company  grew 
talkative :  the  conversation  became  so  lively  that  Lenardo 
was  enabled  to  compose  himself  and  hide  his  confusion. 
Wilhelm,  to  whom  he  had  very  soon  given  a  sign  of  this 
strange  incident,  did  his  best  to  help  him ;  and  Valeriua's 
little  touch  of  vanity  in  thinking  that  the  baron,  even  before 
visiting  his  own  friends,  had  remembered  her,  and  come  to 
see  her,  excluded  any  shadow  of  suspicion  that  another  pur- 
pose, or  a  misconception,  could  be -concerned  in  the  affair. 

The  party  kept  together  till  a  late  hour,  though  the  two 
friends  were  longing  for  a  confidential  dialogue ;  which, 
accordingly,  commenced  the  moment  they  were  left  alone  in 
their  allotted  chambers. 

"  It  appears,"  said  Lenardo,  "  I  am  not  to  get  rid  of  this 
secret  pain.  A  luckless  confusion  of  names,  I  now  observe, 
redoubles  it.  This  fair-haired  beauty  I  have  often  seen  play- 
ing with  the  brunette,  who  could  not  be  called  a  beauty ; 
nay,  I  myself  have  often  run  about  with  them  over  the  fields 
and  gardens,  though  so  much  older  than  they.  Neither  of 
them  made  the  slightest  impression  on  me :  I  have  but  re- 
tained the  name  of  the  one  and  applied  it  to  the  other. 
And  now  her  who  does  not  concern  me  I  find  happy  above 
measure  in  her  own  way  ;  while  the  other  is  cast  forth,  who 
knows  whither?  into  the  wide  world." 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  151 

Next  morning  the  friends  were  up  almost  sooner  than  their 
active  entertainers.  The  happiness  of  seeing  her  guests  hs"3. 
also  awakened  Valerina  early.  She  little  fancied  with  wha 
feelings  they  came  to  breakfast.  Wilhelm,  seeing  clearly, 
that,  without  some  tidings  of  the  nut-brown  maid,  Lenardo 
must  continue  in  a  painful  state,  led  the  conversation  to  old 
times,  to  playmates,  to  scenes  which  he  himself  knew,  and 
other  such  recollections ;  so  that  Valeriua  soon  quite  natu- 
rally came  to  speak  of  the  nut-brown  maid,  and  to  mention 
her  name. 

No  sooner  did  Lenardo  hear  the  name  Nachodina,  than  he 
perfectly  remembered  it ;  but,  with  the  name,  the  figure  also, 
of  that  supplicant,  returned  to  him  with  such  violence  that 
Valerina's  further  narrative  became  quite  agonizing  to  him, 
as  with  warm  sympathy  she  proceeded  to  describe  the  dis- 
trainment of  the  pious  farmer,  his  submissive  resignation 
and  departure,  and  how  he  went  away,  leaning  on  his 
daughter,  who  carried  a  little  bundle  in  her  hand.  Lenardo 
was  like  to  sink  under  the  earth.  Unhappily  and  happily, 
she  went  into  a  certain  circumstantiality  in  her  details ; 
which,  while  it  tortured  Lenardo's  heart,  enabled  him,  with 
help  of  his  associate,  to  put  on  some  appearance  of  com- 
posure. 

The  travellers  departed  amid  warm,  sincere  invitations,  on 
the  part  of  the  married  pair,  to  return  soon,  and  a  faint, 
hollow  assent  on  their  own  part.  And  as  a  person  who 
stands  in  any  favor  with  himself  takes  every  thing  in  a  favor- 
able light ;  so  Valerina  explained  Lenardo's  silence,  his  visi- 
ble confusion  in  taking  leave,  his  hasty  departure,  entirely  to 
her  own  advantage,  and  could  not,  although  the  faithful  and 
loving  wife  of  a  worthy  gentleman,  help  feeling  some  small 
satisfaction  at  this  re-awakening  or  incipient  inclination,  as 
she  reckoned  it,  of  her  former  landlord. 

After  this  strange  incident,  while  the  friends  were  pro- 
ceeding on  their  way,  Lenardo  thus  addressed  Wilhelm : 
"  For  our  shipwreck  with  such  fair  hopes,  at  the  very  en- 
trance of  the  haven,  I  can  still  console  myself  in  some  degree 
for  the  moment,  and  go  calmly  to  meet  my  people,  when  I 
think  that  Heaven  has  brought  me  you,  you  to  whom,  under 
your  peculiar  mission,  it  is  indifferent  whither  or  how  you 
direct  your  path.  Engage  to  find  out  Nachodina,  and  to  give 
me  ttaings  of  her.  If  she  be  happy,  then  am  I  content ; 
if  unhappj',  then  help  her  at  my  charges.  Act  without  re- 
serve ;  spare,  calculate  nothing.  I  shall  return  home,  shall 


152  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

endeavor  to  get  intelligence,  and  send  your  Felix  to  you  by 
some  trusty  person.  Place  the  boy,  as  your  intention  was, 
where  many  of  his  equals  are  placed  :  it  is  almost  indifferent 
under  what  superintendence  ;  but  I  am  much  mistaken  if,  in 
the  neighborhood,  in  the  place  where  I  wish  you  to  wait  for 
your  sou  and  his  attendant,  you  do  not  find  a  man  that  can 
give  you  the  best  counsel  on  this  point.  It  is  he  to  whom  I 
owe  the  training  of  my  youth,  whom  I  should  have  liked  so 
much  to  take  along  with  me  in  my  travels,  whom,  at  least,  I 
should  many  a  time  have  wished  to  meet  in  the  course  of 
them,  had  he  not  already  devoted  himself  to  a  quiet,  domes- 
tic life." 

The  friends  had  now  reached  the  spot  where  they  were 
actually  to  part.  While  the  horses  were  feeding,  the  baron 
wrote  a  letter,  which  Wilhelm  took  charge  of,  yet,  for  the 
rest,  could  not  help  communicating  his  scruples  to  Lenardo. 

"  In  my  present  situation,"  said  he,  "I  reckon  it  a  desira- 
ble commission  to  deliver  a  generous  man  from  distress  of 
mind,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  free  a  human  creature  from 
misery,  if  she  happen  to  be  miserable.  Such  an  object  one 
may  look  upon  as  a  star,  towards  which  one  sails,  not  know- 
ing what  awaits  him,  what  he  is  to  meet,  by  the  way.  Yet, 
with  all  this,  I  must  not  be  blind  to  the  danger  which,  in 
every  case,  still  hovers  over  you.  Were  you  not  a  man  who 
regularly  avoids  engagements,  I  should  require  a  promise 
from  you  not  again  to  see  this  female,  who  has  come  to  be  so 
precious  in  your  eyes,  but  to  content  yourself  when  I  an- 
nounce to  you  that  all  is  well  with  her,  be  it  that  I  actually 
find  her  happy,  or  am  enabled  to  make  her  so.  But,  having 
neither  power  nor  wish  to  extort  a  promise  from  you,  I  con- 
jure you  by  all  you  reckon  dear  and  sacred,  for  your  own 
sake,  for  that  of  your  kindred,  and  of  me,  your  new-acquired 
friend,  to  allow  yourself  no  approximation  to  that  lost  maiden 
under  what  pretext  soever ;  not  to  require  of  me  that  I  men- 
tion or  describe  the  place  where  I  find  her,  or  the  neighbor- 
hood where  I  leave  her ;  but  to  believe  my  word  that  she  is 
well,  and  be  enfranchised  and  at  peace." 

Lenardo  gave  a  smile,  and  answered,  "  Perform  this  ser- 
vice for  me,  and  I  shall  be  grateful.  What  you  are  willing 
and  able  to  do,  I  commit  to  your  own  hands ;  and,  for  my- 
self, leave  me  to  time,  to  common  sense,  and,  if  possible,  to 
reason." 

"Pardon  me,"  answered  Wilhelm  ;  "but  whoever  knows 
under  what  strange  forms  love  glides  into  our  hearts,  cannot 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  153 

but  be  apprehensive  on  foreseeing  that  a  friend  may  come 
to  entertain  wishes,  which,  in  his  circumstances,  his  station, 
would,  of  necessity,  produce  uuhappiuess  and  perplexity." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Lenardo,  "  when  1  know  the  maiden  happy, 
I  have  done  with  her." 

'The  friends  parted,  each  in  his  own  direction. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BY  a  short  and  pleasant  road,  "Wilhelm  had  reached  the 
town  to  which  his  letter  was  directed.  He  found  it  gay  and 
well  built ;  but  its  new  aspect  showed  too  clearly,  that,  not 
long  before,  it  must  have  suffered  by  a  conflagration.  The 
address  of  his  letter  let  him  into  the  last  small,  uninjured 
portion  of  the  place,  to  a  house  of  ancient,  earnest  architec- 
ture, yet  well  kept,  and  of  a  tidy  look.  Diin  windows, 
strangely  fashioned,  indicated  an  exhilarating  pomp  of  colors 
from  within.  Nor,  in  fact,  did  the  interior  fail  to  correspond 
with  the  exterior.  In  clean  apartments,  everywhere  stood 
furniture,  which  must  have  served  several  generations,  inter- 
mixed with  very  little  that  was  new.  The  master  of  the 
house  received  our  traveller  kindly  in  a  little  chamber  simi- 
larly fitted  up.  These  clocks  had  already  struck  the  hour  of 
many  a  birth  and  many  a  death  :  every  thing  which  met  the 
eye  reminded  one  that  the  past  might,  as  it  were,  be  pro- 
tracted into  the  present. 

The  stranger  delivered  his  letter ;  but  the  landlord,  with- 
out opening  it,  laid  it  aside,  and  endeavored,  in  a  cheerful 
conversation,  immediately  to  get  acquainted  with  his  guest. 
They  soon  grew  confidential ;  and  as  Wilhelm,  contrary  to 
his  usual  habit,  let  his  eye  wander  inquisitively  over  the 
room,  the  good  old  man  said  to  him,  "My  domestic  equip- 
ment excites  your  attention.  You  here  see  how  long  a  thing 
may  last ;  and  one  should  make  such  observations  now  and 
then,  by  way  of  counterbalance  to  so  much  in  the  world 
that  rapidly  changes,  and  passes  away.  This  same  teakettle 
served  my  parents,  and  was  a  witness  of  our  evening  family 
assemblages  ;  this  copper  fire-screen  still  guards  me  from  the 
fire,  which  these  stout  old  tongs  still  help  me  to  mend ;  and 
so  it  is  with  all  throughout.  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  bestow 


154  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

my  care  and  industry  on  many  other  things,  as  I  did  not  oc- 
cupy myself  with  changing  these  external  necessaries,  a 
task  which  consumes  so  many  people's  time  and  resources. 
An  affectionate  attention  to  what  we  possess  makes  us  rich, 
for  thereby  we  accumulate  a  treasure  of  remembrances  con- 
nected with  indifferent  things.  I  knew  a  young  man  who 
got  a  common  pin  from  his  love  while  taking  leave  of  her, 
dail}-  fastened  his  breast-frill  with  it,  and  brought  back  this 
guarded  and  not  unemployed  treasure  from  a  long  journey- 
ing of  several  years.  In  us  little  men,  such  little  things  are 
to  be  reckoned  virtue." 

"Many  a  one,  too,"  answered  "Wilhelm,  "brings  back, 
from  such  long  and  far  travellings,  a  sharp  pricker  in  his 
heart,  which  he  would  fain  be  quit  of." 

The  old  man  seemed  to  know  nothing  of  Lenardo's  situa- 
tion, though  in  the  mean  while  he  had  opened  the  letter  and 
read  it ;  for  he  returned  to  his  former  topics. 

"Tenacity  of  our  possessions,"  continued  he,  "in  many 
cases,  gives  us  the  greatest  energy.  To  this  obstinacy  in 
myself  I  owe  the  saving  of  my  house.  When  the  town  was 
on  fire,  some  people  wished  to  begin  snatching  and  saving 
here  too.  I  forbade  this,  bolted  my  doors  and  windows, 
and  turned  out,  with  several  neighbors,  to  oppose  the  flames. 
Our  efforts  succeeded  in  preserving  this  summit  of  the  town. 
Next  morning  all  was  standing  here  as  you  now  see  it,  and 
as  it  has  stood  for  almost  a  hundred  years." 

"Yet  you  will  confess,"  said  Wilhelm,  "that  no  man 
withstands  the  change  which  time  produces." 

"  That  in  truth  !  "  said  the  other ;  "  but  he  who  holds  out 
longest  has  still  done  something. 

"  Yes:  even  beyond  the  limits  of  our  being,  we  are  able 
to  maintain  and  secure ;  we  transmit  discoveries,  we  hand 
down  sentiments  as  well  as  property ;  and,  as  the  latter  was 
my  chief  province,  I  have  for  a  long  time  exercised  the 
strictest  foresight,  invented  the  most  peculiar  precautions ; 
yet  not  till  lately  have  I  succeeded  in  seeing  my  wish  ful- 
filled. 

"  Commonly  the  son  disperses  what  the  father  has  col- 
lected, collects  something  different,  or  in  a  different  way. 
Yet  if  we  can  wait  for  the  grandson,  for  the  new  genera- 
tion, we  find  the  same  tendencies,  the  same  tastes,  again 
making  their  appearance.  And  so  at  last,  by  the  care  of  our 
pedagogic  friends,  I  have  found  an  active  youth,  who,  if 
possible,  pays  more  regard  to  old  possession  than  even  I,  and 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  155 

has,  withal,  a  vehement  attachment  to  every  sort  of  curiosi- 
ties. My  decided  confidence  he  gained  by  the  violent  exer- 
tions with  which  he  struggled  to  keep  off  the  fire  from  our 
dwelling.  Doubly  and  trebly  has  he  merited  the  treasure 
which  I  mean  to  leave  him,  —  nay,  it  is  already  given  into 
his  hands ;  and  ever  since  that  time  our  store  is  increasing 
in  a  wonderful  way. 

"  Not  all,  however,  that  you  see  hei'e  is  ours.  On  the 
contrary,  as  in  the  hands  of  pawnbrokers  you  find  many  a 
foreign  jewel,  so  with  us,  I  can  show  you  precious  articles, 
which  people,  under  the  most  various  circumstances,  have 
deposited  with  us  for  the  sake  of  better  keeping." 

Wilhelm  recollected  the  beautiful  box,  which,  at  any  rate, 
he  did  not  like  to  carry  with  him  in  his  wanderings,  and 
showed  it  to  his  landlord.  The  old  man  viewed  it  with  atten- 
tion, gave  the  date  when  it  was  probably  made,  and  showed 
some  similar  things.  Wilhelm  asked  him  if  he  thought  it 
should  be  opened.  The  old  man  thought  not.  "I  believe, 
indeed,"  said  he,  "  it  could  be  done  without  special  harm  to 
the  casket ;  but,  as  you  found  it  in  so  singular  a  way,  you 
must  try  your  luck  on  it.  For  if  you  are  born  lucky,  and 
this  little  box  is  of  any  consequence,  the  key  will  doubtless 
by  and  by  be  found,  and  in  the  very  place  where  you  are 
least  expecting  it." 

"There  have  been  such  occurrences,"  said  Wilhelm. 

"  I  have  myself  experienced  such,"  replied  the  old  man  ; 
"  and  here  you  behold  the  strangest  of  them.  Of  this  ivory 
crucifix  I  have  had,  for  thirty  years,  the  body  with  the  head 
and  feet  in  one  place.  For  its  own  nature,  as  well  as  for 
the  glorious  art  displayed  in  it,  I  kept  the  figure  laid  up  in 
my  most  private  drawer  :  nearly  ten  years  ago  I  got  the  cross 
belonging  to  it,  with  the  inscription,  and  was  then  induced 
to  have  the  arms  supplied  by  the  best  carver  of  our  day. 
Far,  indeed,  was  this  expert  ailist  from  equalling  his  prede- 
cessor; yet  I  let  his  work  pass,  more  for  devout  purposes 
than  for  any  admiration  of  its  excellence. 

*'  Now,  conceive  my  delight !  A  little  while  ago  the  origi- 
nal, genuine;  arms  were  sent  me,  as  you  see  them  here  united 
in  the  loveliest  harmony  ;  and  I,  charmed  at  so  happy  a  coin- 
cidence, cannot  help  recognizing  in  this  crucifix  the  fortunes 
of  the  Christian  religion,  which,  often  enough  dismembered 
and  scattered  abroad,  will  ever  in  the  end  again  gather  itself 
together  at  the  foot  of  the  cross." 

Wilhelm  admired  the  figure  and  its  strange  combination. 


156  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

"I  will  follow  your  counsel,"  added  he:  "let  the  casket 
continue  locked  till  the  key  of  it  be  found,  though  it  should 
lie  till  the  end  of  my  life." 

"  One  who  lives  long,"  said  the  old  man,  "  sees  much  col- 
lected and  much  cast  asunder." 

The  young  partner  in  the  house  now  chanced  to  enter,  and 
Wilhelm  signified  his  purpose  of  intrusting  the  box  to  their 
keeping.  A  large  book  was  thereupon  produced,  the  deposit 
inscribed  in  it,  with  many  ceremonies  and  stipulations ;  a 
receipt  granted,  which  applied  in  words  to  any  bearer,  but 
was  only  to  be  honored  on  the  giving  of  a  certain  token 
agreed  upon  with  the  owner. 

So  passed  their  hours  in  instructive  and  entertaining  con- 
versation, till  at  last  Felix,  mounted  on  a  gay  pony,  arrived 
in  safety.  A  groom  had  accompanied  him,  and  was  now, 
for  some  time,  to  attend  and  serve  Wilhelm.  A  letter  from 
Lenardo,  delivered  at  the  same  time,  complained  that  he 
could  find  no  vestige  of  the  nut-brown  maid ;  and  Wilhelm 
was  anew  conjured  to  do  his  utmost  in  searching  her  out. 
Wilhelm  imparted  the  matter  to  his  landlord.  The  latter 
smiled,  and  said,  "We  must  certainly  make  every  exertion 
for  our  friend's  sake :  perhaps  I  may  succeed  in  learning 
something  of  her.  As  I  keep  these  old,  primitive  household 
goods  ;  so,  likewise,  have  I  kept  some  old,  primitive  friends. 
You  tell  me  that  this  maiden's  father  was  distinguished  by 
his  piety.  The  pious  have  a  more  intimate  connection  with 
each  other  than  the  wicked,  though  externally  it  may  not 
always  prosper  so  well.  By  this  means  I  hope  to  obtain 
some  traces  of  what  you  are  sent  to  seek.  But,  as  a  prepara- 
tive, do  you  now  pursue  the  resolution  of  placing  your  Felix 
among  his  equals,  and  turning  him  to  some  fixed  department 
of  activity.  Hasten  with  him  to  the  great  Institution.  I 
will  point  out  the  way  3'ou  must  follow,  in  order  to  find  the 
chief,  who  resides  now  in  one,  now  in  another,  division  of  his 
province.  You  shall  have  a  letter,  with  my  best  advice  and 
direction." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  pilgrims,  pursuing  the  way  pointed  out  to  them,  had, 
without  difficulty,  reached  the  limits  of  the  province,  where 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  157 

they  were  to  see  so  many  singularities.  At  the  very  entrance 
they  found  themselves  in  a  district  of  extreme  fertility,  — 
in  its  soft  knolls,  favorable  to  crops ;  in  its  higher  hills,  to 
sheep-husbandry  ;  in  its  wide  bottoms,  to  grazing.  Harvest 
was  near  at  hand,  and  all  was  in  the  richest  luxuriance  ;  yet 
what  most  surprised  our  travellers  was,  that  they  observed 
neither  men  nor  women,  but,  in  all  quarters,  boys  and  youths 
engaged  in  preparing  for  a  happy  harvest,  —  nay,  already 
making  arrangements  for  a  merry  harvest-home.  Our  trav- 
ellers saluted  several  of  them,  and  inquired  for  the  chief,  of 
whose  abode,  however,  they  could  gain  no  intelligence.  The 
address  of  their  letter  was,  "To  the  Chief,  or  the  Three." 
Of  this,  also,  the  boys  could  make  nothing :  however,  they 
referred  the  strangers  to  an  overseer,  who  was  just  about 
mounting  his  horse  to  ride  off.  Our  friends  disclosed  their 
object  to  this  man :  the  frank  liveliness  of  Felix  seemed  to 
please  him,  and  so  they  all  rode  along  together. 

Wilhelm  had  already  noticed,  that,  in  the  cut  and  color  of 
the  3*oung  people's  clothes,  a  variet}-  prevailed,  which  gave 
the  whole  tiny  population  a  peculiar  aspect :  he  was  just 
about  to  question  his  attendant  on  this  point,  when  a  still 
stranger  observation  forced  itself  upon  him  ;  all  the  children, 
how  employed  soever,  laid  down  their  work,  and  turned,  with 
singular,  yet  diverse,  gestures,  towards  the  party  riding  past 
them,  or  rather,  as  it  was  easy  to  infer,  towards  the  over- 
seer, who  was  in  it.  The  youngest  laid  their  arms  crosswise 
over  their  breasts,  and  looked  cheerfully  up  to  the  sky  ;  those 
of  middle  size  held  their  hands  on  their  backs,  and  looked 
smiling  on  the  ground ;  the  eldest  stood  with  a  frank  and 
spirited  air ;  their  arms  stretched  down,  they  turned  th2ir 
heads  to  the  right,  and  formed  themselves  into  a  line  ;  whereas 
the  others  kept  separate,  each  where  he  chanced  to  be. 

The  riders  having  stopped  and  dismounted  here,  as  several 
children,  in  their  various  modes,  were  standing  forth  to  be 
inspected  by  the  overseer,  Wilhelm  asked  the  meaning  of 
these  gestures  ;  but  Felix  struck  in,  and  cried  gayly,  "  What 
posture  am  I  to  take,  then?  " 

"  Withouf^doubt,"  said  the  overseer,  "the  first  posture, 
—  the  arms  over  the  breast,  the  face  earnest  and  cheerful 
towards  the  sky." 

Felix  obeyed,  but  soon  cried,  "This  is  not  much  to  my 
taste  ;  I  see  nothing  up  there  :  does  it  last  long?  But  yes  !  " 
exclaimed  he  joyfully  :  ' '  yonder  are  a  pair  of  falcons  flying 
from  the  west  to  the  east ;  that  is  a  good  sign  too." 


158  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

"As  thou  takest  it,  as  thou  behavest,"  said  the  other: 
"  now  mingle  among  them  as  they  mingle."  He  gave  a  sig- 
nal ;  and  the  children  left  their  postures,  and  again  betook 
them  to  work  or  sport  as  before. 

"Are  you  at  liberty,"  said  Wilhelm  then,  "to  explain 
this  sight,  which  surprises  me?  I  easily  perceive  that  these 
positions,  these  gestures,  are  salutations  directed  to  you." 

"Just  so,"  replied  the  overseer:  "salutations  which,  at 
once,  indicate  in  what  degree  of  culture  each  of  these  boys 
is  standing." 

"  But  can  you  explain  to  me  the  meaning  of  this  grada- 
tion ? ' '  inquired  Wilhelm ;  ' k  for  that  there  is  one  is  clear 
enough." 

"  This  belongs  to  a  higher  quarter,"  said  the  other  :  "so 
much,  however,  I  may  tell  you,' that  these  ceremonies  are  not 
mere  grimaces ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  import  of  them, 
not  the  highest,  but  still  a  directing,  intelligible  import,  is 
communicated  to  the  children  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  each 
is  enjoined  to  retain  and  consider  for  himself  whatever  expla- 
nation it  has  been  thought  meet  to  give  him :  they  are  not 
allowed  to  talk  of  these  things,  either  to  strangers  or  among 
themselves  ;  and  thus  their  instruction  is  modified  in  many 
ways.  Besides,  secrecy  itself  has  many  advantages ;  for 
when  you  tell  a  man  at  once,  and  straightforward,  the  pur- 
pose of  any  object,  he  fancies  there  is  nothing  in  it.  Certain 
secrets,  even  if  known  to  every  one,  men  find  that  they  must 
still  reverence  by  concealment  and  silence  ;  for  this  works  on 
modesty  and  good  morals." 

"I  understand  you,"  answered  Wilhelm:  "why  should 
not  the  principle  which  is  so  necessary  in  material  things  be 
applied  to  spiritual  also?  But  perhaps  in  another  point  you 
can  satisfy  my  curiosity.  The  great  variety  of  shape  and 
color  in  these  children's  clothes  attracts  my  notice  ;  and  yet 
I  do  not  see  all  sorts  of  colors,  but  a  few  in  all  their  shades, 
from  the  lightest  to  the  deepest.  At  the  same  time  I  observe 
that  by  this  no  designation  of  degrees  in  age  or  merit  can  be 
intended  ;  for  the  oldest  and  the  youngest  boys  may  be  alike, 
both  in  cut  and  color,  while  those  of  similar  gestures  are  not 
similar  in  dress." 

"On  this  matter,  also,"  said  the  other,  "silence  is  pre- 
scribed to  me ;  but  I  am  much  mistaken,  or  you  will  not 
leave  us  without  receiving  all  the  information  you  desire." 

Our  party  continued  following  the  trace  of  the  chief,  which 
they  believed  themselves  to  be  upon.  But  now  the  strangers 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  159 

could  not  fail  to  notice,  with  new  surprise,  that,  the  farther 
they  advanced  into  the  district,  a  vocal  melody  more  and 
more  frequently  sounded  towards  them  from  the  fields. 
Whatever  the  boys  might  be  engaged  with,  whatever  labor 
they  were  carrying  on,  they  accompanied  it  with  singing ; 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  songs  were  specially  adapted  to  their 
various  sorts  of  occupation,  and  in  similar  cases  everywhere 
the  same.  If  there  chanced  to  be  several  children  in  com- 
pany, they  sang  together  in  alternating  parts.  Towards 
evening  appeared  dancers  likewise,  whose  steps  were  enliv- 
ened and  directed  by  choruses.  Felix  struck  in  with  them, 
not  altogether  unsuccessfully,  from  horseback,  as  he  passed ; 
and  Wilhelm  felt  gratified  in  this  amusement,  which  gave  new 
life  to  the  scene. 

"Apparently,"  he  said  to  his  companion,  "you  devote 
considerable  care  to  this  branch  of  instruction :  the  accom- 
plishment, otherwise,  could  not  be  so  widely  diffused  and  so 
completely  practised." 

"  We  do,"  replied  the  other:  "on  our  plan,  song  is  the 
first  step  in  education  ;  all  the  rest  are  connected  with  it,  and 
attained  by  means  of  it.  The  simplest  enjoyment,  as  well 
as  the  simplest  instruction,  we  enliven  and  impress  by  song  ; 
nay,  even  what  religious  and  moral  principles  we  la}7  before 
our  children  are  communicated  in  the  way  of  song.  Other 
advantages  for  the  excitement  of  activity  spontaneously 
arise  from  this  practice :  for,  in  accustoming  the  children  to 
write  the  tones  they  are  to  utter  in  musical  characters,  and, 
as  occasion  serves,  again  to  seek  these  characters  in  the  utter- 
ance of  their  own  voice  ;  and,  besides  this,  to  subjoin  the  text 
below  the  notes,  —  they  are  forced  to  practise  hand,  ear, 
and  eye  at  once,  whereby  they  acquire  the  art  of  penmanship 
sooner  than  you  would  expect ;  and  as  all  this,  in  the  long- 
run,  is  to  be  effected  by  copying  precise  measurement  sand 
accurately  settled  numbers,  they  come  to  conceive  the  high 
value  of  mensuration  and  arithmetic  much  sooner  than  in 
any  other  way.  Among  all  imaginable  things,  accordingly, 
we  have  selected  music  as  the  element  of  our  teaching ;  for 
level  roads  riu*  out  from  music  towards  every  side." 

Wilhelm  endeavored  to  obtain  still  further  information, 
and  expressed  his  surprise  at  hearing  no  instrumental  music. 
"This  is,  by  no  means,  neglected  here,"  said  the  other, 
' '  but  practised  in  a  peculiar  district,  one  of  the  most  pleasant 
valleys  among  the  mountains ;  and  there  again  we  have  ar- 
ranged it  so  that  the  different  instruments  shall  be  taught  in 


160  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

separate  places.  The  discords  of  beginners,  in  particular, 
are  banished  into  certain  solitudes,  where  they  can  drive  no 
one  to  despair ;  for  you  will  confess,  that  in  well-regulated 
civil  society  there  is  scarcely  a  more  melancholy  suffering  to 
be  undergone  than  what  is  forced  on  us  by  the  neighborhood 
of  an  incipient  player  on  the  flute  or  violin. 

"  Our  learners,  out  of  a  laudable  desire  to  be  troublesome 
to  no  one,  go  forth  of  their  own  accord,  for  a  longer  or  a 
shorter  time,  into  the  wastes,  and  strive  in  their  seclusion  to 
attain  the  merit  which  shall  again  admit  them  into  the  in- 
habited world.  Each  of  them,  from  time  to  time,  is  allowed 
to  venture  an  attempt  for  admission :  and  the  trial  seldom 
fails  of  success ;  for  bashfulness  and  modesty  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  parts  of  our  system,  we  strongly  endeavor  to  main- 
tain and  cherish.  That  your  son  has  a  good  voice  I  am  glad 
to  observe :  all  the  rest  is  managed  with  so  much  the  greater 
ease." 

The}r  had  now  reached  a  place  where  Felix  was  to  stop  and 
make  trial  of  its  arrangements,  till  a  formal  reception  should 
be  granted  him.  From  a  distance  they  had  been  saluted  by 
a  jocund  sound  of  music :  it  was  a  game  in  which  the  boys 
were,  for  the  present,  amusing  themselves  in  their  hour  of 
play.  A  general  chorus  mounted  up  ;  each  individual  of  a 
wide  circle  striking  in  at  his  time  with  a  joyful,  clear,  firm 
tone,  as  the  sign  was  given  him  by  the  overseer.  The  latter 
more  than  once  took  the  singers  by  surprise,  when,  at  a 
signal,  he  suspended  the  choral  song,  and  called  on  any  single 
boy,  touching  him  with  his  rod,  to  catch  by  himself  the  ex- 
piring tone,  and  adapt  to  it  a  suitable  song,  fitted  also  to 
the  spirit  of  what  had  preceded.  Most  part  showed  great 
dexterity  :  a  few  who  failed  in  this  feat  willingly  gave  in  their 
pledges  without  altogether  being  laughed  at  for  their  ill  suc- 
cess. Felix  was  child  enough  to  mix  among  them  instantly, 
and  in  his  new  task  he  acquitted  himself  tolerably  well. 
The  first  salutation  was  then  enjoined  on  him :  he  directly 
laid  his  hands  on  his  breast,  looked  upwards,  and  truly  with 
so  roguish  a  countenance  that  it  was  easy  to  observe  no 
secret  meaning  had  yet,  in  his  mind,  attached  itself  to  this 
posture. 

The  delightful  spot,  his  kind  reception,  the  merry  play- 
mates, all  pleased  the  boy  so  well  that  he  felt  no  very  deep 
sorrow  as  his  father  moved  away :  the  departure  of  the  pony 
was,  perhaps,  a  heavier  matter;  but  he  yielded  here  also, 
on  learning  that  in  this  circle  it  could  not  possibly  be  kept : 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  161 

and  the  overseer  promised  him,  in  compensation,  that  he 
should  find  another  horse  as  smart  and  well  broken  at  a  time 
when  he  was  not  expecting  it. 

As  the  chief,  it  appeared,  was  not  to  be  come  at,  the  over- 
seer turned  to  Wilhelm,  and  said,  tk  I  must  now  leave  you, 
to  pursue  my  occupations ;  but  first  I  will  bring  you  to  the 
Three,  who  preside  over  our  sacred  things.  Your  letter  is 
addressed  to  them  likewise,  and  they  together  represent  the 
chief."  Wilhelm  could  have  wished  to  gain  some  previous 
knowledge  of  these  sacred  things ;  but  his  companion  an- 
swered, "The  Three  will,  doubtless,  in  return  for  the  con- 
fidence you  show  in  leaving  us  your  son,  disclose  to  you,  in 
their  wisdom  and  fairness,  what  is  most  needful  for  you  to 
learn.  The  visible  objects  of  reverence,  which  I  named 
sacred  things,  are  collected  in  this  separate  circle ;  are 
mixed  with  nothing,  interfered  with  by  nothing ;  at  cer- 
tain seasons  of  the  year  only  are  our  pupils  admitted  here, 
to  be  taught  in  their  various  degrees  of  culture  by  historical 
and  sensible  means  ;  and  in  these  short  intervals  they  carry 
off  a  deep  enough  impression  to  suffice  them  for  a  time,  dur- 
ing the  performance  of  their  other  duties." 

Wilhelm  had  now  reached  the  gate  of  a  wooded  vale,  sur- 
rounded with  high  walls :  on  a  certain  sign  the  little  door 
opened,  and  a  man  of  earnest  and  imposing  look  received 
our  traveller.  The  latter  found  himself  in  a  large,  beau- 
tifully umbrageous  space,  decked  with  the  richest  foliage, 
shaded  with  trees  and  bushes  of  all  sorts  ;  while  stately  walls 
and  magnificent  buildings  were  discerned  only  in  glimpses 
through  this  thick,  natural  boscage.  A  friendly  reception 
from  the  Three,  who  by  and  by  appeared,  at  last  turned  into 
a  general  conversation,  the  substance  of  which  we  now  pre- 
sent in  an  abbreviated  shape. 

"  Since  you  intrust  your  son  to  us,"  said  they,  "  it  is  fair 
that  we  admit  you  to  a  closer  view  of  our  procedure.  Of 
what  is  external  you  have  seen  much  that  does  not  bear  its 
meaning  on  its  front.  What  part  of  this  do  you  chiefly  wish 
to  have  explained?  " 

"  Dignified^yet  singular  gestures  of  salutation  I  have 
noticed,  the  import  of  which  I  would  gladly  learn  :-  with  you, 
doubtless,  the  exterior  has  a  reference  to  the  interior,  and 
inversely  ;  let  me  know  what  this  reference  is." 

"•  Well- formed,  healthy  children,"  replied  the  Three, 
"  bring  much  into  the  world  along  with  them :  Nature  has 
given  to  each  whatever  he  requires  for  time  and  duration ; 


162  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

to  unfold  this  is  our  duty ;  often  it  unfolds  itself  better  of 
its  own  accord.  One  thing  there  is,  however,  which  no  child 
brings  into  the  world  with  him  ;  and  yet  it  is  on  this  one  thing 
that  all  depends  for  making  man  in  every  point  a  man.  If 
you  can  discover  it  yourself,  speak  it  out."  Wilhelm  thought 
a  little  while,  then  shook  his  head. 

The  Three,  after  a  suitable  pause,  exclaimed,  "Rever- 
ence!" Wilhelm  seemed  to  hesitate.  "  Reverence  !  "  cried 
they  a  second  time.  "  All  want  it,  perhaps  you  yourself. 

"  Three  kinds  of  gestures  you  have  seen  ;  and  we  inculcate 
a  threefold  reverence,  which,  when  commingled  and  formed 
into  one  whole,  attains  its  highest  force  and  effect.  The 
first  is,  reverence  for  what  is  above  us.  That  posture,  the 
arms  crossed  over  the  breast,  the  look  turned  joyfully  to- 
wards heaven,  that  is  what  we  have  enjoined  on  young  chil- 
dren ;  requiring  from  them  thereby  a  testimony  that  there  is 
a  God  above,  who  images  and  reveals  himself  in  parents, 
teachers,  superiors.  Then  comes  the  second,  reverence  for 
what  is  under  us.  Those  hands  folded  over  the  back,  and, 
as  it  were,  tied  together ;  that  down-turned,  smiling  look,  — 
announce  that  we  are  to  regard  the  earth  with  attention  and 
cheerfulness :  from  the  bounty  of  the  earth  we  are  nourished  ; 
the  earth  affords  unutterable  joys,  but  disproportionate  sor- 
rows she  also  brings  us.  Should  one  of  our  children  do 
himself  external  hurt,  blamably  or  blamelessly ;  should  others 
hurt  him  accidentally  or  purposely ;  should  dead,  involun- 
tary matter  do  him  hurt,  —  then  let  him  well  consider  it ;  for 
such  dangers  will  attend  him  all  his  days.  But  from  this 
posture  we  delay  not  to  free  our  pupil  the  instant  we  become 
convinced  that  the  instruction  connected  with  it  has  produced 
sufficient  influence  on  him.  Then,  on  the  contrary,  we  bid 
him  gather  courage,  and,  turning  to  his  comrades,  range 
himself  along  with  them.  Now,  at  last,  he  stands  forth, 
frank  and  bold,  not  selfishly  isolated :  only  in  combination 
with  his  equals  does  he  front  the  world.  Further  we  have 
nothing  to  add." 

"I  quite  understand  it,"  said  Wilhelm.  "Are  not  the 
mass  of  men  so  marred  and  stinted  because  they  take  pleas- 
ure only  in  the  element  of  evil-wishing  and  evil-speaking? 
Whoever  gives  himself  to  this,  soon  comes  to  be  indifferent 
towards  God,  contemptuous  towards  the  world,  spiteful 
towards  his  equals ;  and  the  true,  genuine,  indispensable 
sentiment  of  self-estimation  corrupts  into  self-conceit  and 
presumption.  Allow  me,  however,"  continued  he,  "to  state 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  163 

one  difficulty.  Yon  say  that  reverence  is  not  natural  to  man  : 
now,  has  not  the  reverence  or  fear  of  barbarous  nations  for 
violent  convulsions  of  Nature,  or  other  inexplicable,  mysteri- 
ously foreboding  occurrences,  been  heretofore  regarded  as 
the  germ  out  of  which  a  higher  feeling,  a  purer  sentiment, 
was  by  degrees  to  be  developed?  " 

"  Fear  does  accord  with  Nature,"  replied  they,  "  but  rev- 
erence does  not.  Men  fear  a  known  or  unknown  powerful 
i>eing  :  the  strong  seeks  to  conquer  it,  the  weak  to  avoid  it ; 
both  endeavor  to  get  quit  of  it,  and  feel  happy  when,  for  a 
short  season,  they  have  put  it  aside,  and  their  nature  has, 
in  some  degree,  regained  freedom  and  independence.  The 
natural  man  repeats  this  operation  millions  of  times  in  the 
course  of  his  life  ;  f rbm  fear  he  struggles  to  freedom  ;  from 
freedom  he  is  driven  back  to  fear,  and  so  makes  no  advance- 
ment. To  fear  is  easy,  but  grievous ;  to  reverence  is  diffi- 
cult, but  satisfactory.  Man  does  not  willingly  submit  himself 
to  reverence  ;  or,  rather,  he  never  so  submits  himself :  it  is  a 
higher  sense,  which  must  be  communicated  to  his  nature ; 
which  only,  in  some  peculiarly  favored  individuals,  unfolds 
itself  spontaneously,  who  on  this  account,  too,  have  of  old 
been  looked  upon  as  saints  and  gods.  Here  lies  the  worth, 
here  lies  the  business,  of  all  true  religions ;  whereof  there 
are,  likewise,  only  three,  according  to  the  objects  towards 
which  they  direct  our  devotion." 

The  men  paused  :  Wilhelm  reflected  for  a  time  in  silence  ; 
but,  feeling  in  himself  no  pretension  to  unfold  the  meaning 
of  these  strange  words,  he  requested  the  sages  to  proceed 
with  their  exposition.  They  immediately  complied.  "  No 
religion  that  grounds  itself  on  fear,"  said  they,  "  is  regarded 
among  us.  With  the  reverence  to  which  a  man  should  give 
dominion  in  his  mind,  he  can,  in  paying  honor,  keep  his  own 
honor:  he  is  not  disunited  with  himself,  as  in  the  former 
case.  The  religion  which  depends  on  reverence  for  what  is 
above  us  we  denominate  the  ethnic  ;  it  is  the  religion  of  the 
nations,  and  the  first  happy  deliverance  from  a  degrading 
fear :  all  heathen  religions,  as  we  call  them,  are  of  this  sort, 
whatsoever  names  they  may  bear.  The  second  religion, 
which  founds  itself  on  reverence  for  what  is  around  us,  we 
denominate  the  philosophical ;  for  the  philosopher  stations 
himself  in  the  middle,  and  must  draw  down  to  him  all  that  is 
higher,  and  up  to  him  all  that  is  lower :  and  only  in  this 
medium  condition  does  he  merit  the  title  of  Wise.  Here,  as 
he  surveys  with  clear  sight  his  relation  to  his  equals,  and 


164  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

therefore  to  the  whole  human  race,  his  relations  likewise  to 
all  other  earthly  circumstances  and  arrangements,  necessary 
or  accidental,  he  alone,  in  a  cosmic  sense,  lives  in  truth. 
But  now  we  have  to  speak  of  the  third  religion,  grounded 
on  reverence  for  what  is  beneath  us ;  this  we  name  the 
Christian,  as  in  the  Christian  religion  such  a  temper  is  with 
most  distinctness  manifested :  it  is  a  last  step  to  which  man- 
kind were  fitted  and  destined  to  attain.  But  what  a  task  was 
it,  not  only  to  be  patient  with  the  earth,  and  let  it  lie  beneath 
us,  we  appealing  to  a  higher  birthplace,  but  also  to  recognize 
humility  and  poverty,  mockery  and  despite,  disgrace  and 
wretchedness,  suffering  and  death,  — to  recognize  these  things 
as  divine,  — na}T,  even  on  sin  and  crime  to  look,  not  as  hin- 
derances,  but  to  honor  and  love  them  as  furtherances  of 
what  is  holy.  Of  this,  indeed,  we  find  some  traces  in  all 
ages :  but  the  trace  is  not  the  goal ;  and,  this  being  now 
attained,  the  human  species  cannot  retrograde :  and  we  may 
say,  that  the  Christian  religion,  having  once  appeared,  can- 
not again  vanish ;  having  once  assumed  its  divine  shape,  can 
be  subject  to  no  dissolution." 

"To  which  of  these  religions  do  you  specially  adhere?" 
inquired  Wilhelm. 

"  To  all  the  three,"  replied  thety  ;  "  for  in  their  union  they 
produce  what  may  properly  be  called  the  true  religion.  Out 
of  those  three  reverences  springs  the  highest  reverence,  — 
reverence  for  one's  self ;  and  those  again  unfold  themselves 
from  this  :  so  that  man  attains  the  highest  elevation  of  which 
he  is  capable,  that  of  being  justified  in  reckoning  himself  the 
best  that  God  and  Nature  have  produced,  —  nay,  of  being 
able  to  continue  on  this  lofty  eminence,  without  being  again, 
by  self-conceit  and  presumption,  drawn  down  from  it  into 
the  vulgar  level." 

"  Such  a  confession  of  faith,  developed  in  this  manner, 
does  not  repulse  me,"  answered  Wilhelm:  "  it  agrees  with 
much  that  one  hears  now  and  then  in  the  course  of  life  ;  only 
you  unite  what  others  separate." 

To  this  they  replied,  "Our  confession  has  already  been 
adopted,  though  unconsciously,  by  a  great  part  of  the 
world." 

"  How,  then,  and  where?  "  said  "Wilhelm. 

"In  the  creed!"  exclaimed  they;  "for  the  first  article 
is  ethnic,  and  belongs  to  all  nations ;  the  second,  Christian, 
for  those  struggling  with  affliction  and  glorified  in  affliction  ; 
the  third,  in  fine,  teaches  an  inspired  communion  of  saints, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  165 

that  is,  of  men  in  the  highest  degree  good  and  wise.  And 
should  not,  therefore,  the  Three  Divine  Persons,  under  the 
similitudes  and  names  of  which  these  threefold  doctrines  and 
commands  are  promulgated,  justly  be  considered  as  in  the 
highest  sense  One?  " 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Wilhelm,  "  for  having  pleased  to  lay 
all  this  before  me  in  such  clearness  and  combination,  as  be- 
fore a  grown-up  person,  to  whom  your  three  modes  of  feeling 
are  not  altogether  foreign.  And  now,  when  I  reflect  that 
you  communicate  this  high  doctrine  to  your  children,  in  the 
first  place  as  a  sensible  sign,  then  with  some  symbolical 
accompaniment  attached  to  it,  and  at  last  unfold  to  them  its 
deepest  meaning,  I  cannot  but  warmly  approve  of  your 
method." 

"Right,"  answered  they;  "but  now  we  must  show  you 
more,  and  so  convince  you  the  better  that  your  son  is  in  no 
bad  hands.  This,  however,  may  remain  for  the  morrow : 
rest  and  refresh  yourself,  that  you  may  attend  us  in  the 
morning,  as  a  man  satisfied  and  unimpeded,  into  the  interior 
of  our  sanctuary." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AT  the  hand  of  the  eldest,  our  friend  now  proceeded 
through  a  stately  portal  into  a  round,  or  rather  octagonal, 
hall,  so  richly  decked  with  pictures,  that  it  struck  him  with 
astonishment  as  he  entered.  All  this,  he  easily  conceived, 
nust  have  a  significant  import ;  though  at  the  moment  he 
-,aw  not  so  clearly  what  it  was.  While  about  to  question 
his  guide  on  this  subject,  the  latter  invited  him  to  step  for- 
ward into  a  gallery,  open  on  the  one  side,  and  stretching 
round  a  spacious,  gay,  flowery  garden.  The  wall,  however, 
not  the  flowers,  attracted  the  eyes  of  the  stranger :  it  was 
covered  with  paintings,  and  Wilhelm  could  not  walk  far 
without  observing  that  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  Israelites 
had  furnished  the  materials  for  these  figures. 

"It  is  here,"  said  the  eldest,  "that  we  teach  our  first 
religion, — the  religion  which,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  I 
named  the  ethnic.  The  spirit  of  it  is  to  be  sought  for  in 
the  history  of  the  world ;  its  outward  form,  in  the  events  of 


166  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

that  history.  Only  in  the  return  of  similar  destinies  on  whole 
nations  can  it  properly  be  apprehended." 

"  I  observe,"  said  Wilhelm,  "you  have  done  the  Israelites 
the  honor  to  select  their  history  as  the  groundwork  of  this 
delineation  ;  or,  rather,  you  have  made  it  the  leading  object 
there." 

"  As  you  see,"  replied  the  eldest :  "  for  you  will  remark, 
that  on  the  socles  and  friezes  we  have  introduced  another 
series  of  transactions  and  occurrences,  not  so  much  of  a  syn- 
chronistic as  of  a  symphronistic  kind  ;  since,  among  all  na- 
tions, we  discover  records  of  a  similar  import,  and  grounded 
on  the  same  facts.  Thus  you  perceive  here,  while  in  the 
main  field  of  the  picture,  Abraham  receives  a  visit  from  his 
gods  in  the  form  of  fair  youths,  Apollo,  among  the  herds- 
men of  Admetus,  is  painted  above  on  the  frieze.  From 
which  we  may  learn,  that  the  gods,  when  they  appear  to 
men,  are  commonly  unrecognized  of  them." 

The  friends  walked  on.  Wilhelm,  for  the  most  part,  met 
with  well-known  objects  ;  but  they  were  here  exhibited  in  a 
livelier  and  more  expressive  manner  than  he  had  been  used 
to  see  them.  On  some  few  matters  he  requested  explanation, 
and  at  last  could  not  help  returning  to  his  former  question, 
Why  the  Israelitish  history  had  been  chosen  in  preference  to 
fill  others? 

The  eldest  answered,  "Among  all  heathen  religions,  —  for 
such  also  is  the  Israelitish,  —  this  has  the  most  distinguished 
advantages,  of  which  I  shall  mention  only  a  few.  At  the 
ethnic  judgment-seat,  at  the  judgment-seat  of  the  God  of 
nations,  it  is  not  asked,  Whether  this  is  the  best,  the  most 
excellent  nation,  but  whether  it  lasts,  whether  it  has  contin- 
ued. The  Israelitish  people  never  was  good  for  much,  as  its 
own  leaders,  judges,  rulers,  prophets,  have  a  thousand  times 
reproachfully  declared :  it  possesses  few  virtues,  and  most 
of  the  faults  of  other  nations;  but  in  cohesion,  steadfast- 
ness, valor,  and,  when  all  this  would  not  serve,  in  obstinate 
toughness,  it  has  no  match.  It  is  the  most  perseverant  na- 
tion in  the  world :  it  is,  it  was,  and  will  be,  to  glorify  the 
name  of  Jehovah  through  all  ages.  We  have  set  it  up, 
therefore,  as  the  pattern-figure,  —  as  the  main  figure,  to 
which  the  others  only  serve  as  a  frame." 

"  It  becomes  not  me  to  dispute  with  you,"  said  Wilhelm, 
"since  you  have  instruction  to  impart.  Open  to  me,  there- 
fore, the  other  advantages  of  this  people,  or,  rather,  of  its 
history,  of  its  religion.". 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  167 

"One  chief  advantage,"  said  the  other,  "  is  its  excellent 
collection  of  Sacred  Books.  These  stand  so  happily  com- 
bined together,  that,  even  out  of  the  most  diverse  elements, 
the  feeling  of  a  whole  still  rises  before  us.  They  are  com- 
plete enough  to  satisfy,  fragmentary  enough  to  excite,  bar- 
barous enough  to  rouse,  tender  enough  to  appease ;  and  for 
how  many  other  contradicting  merits  might  not  these  books, 
might  not  this  one  book,  be  praised !  " 

The  series  of  main  figures,  as  well  as  their  relations  to  the 
smaller  which  above  and  below  accompanied  them,  gave  the 
guest  so  much  to  think  of,  that  he  scarcely  heard  the  perti- 
nent remarks  of  his  guide,  who,  by  what  he  said,  seemed 
desirous  rather  to  divert  our  friend's  attention  than  to  fix  it 
on  the  paintings.  Once,  however,  the  old  man  said,  on  some 
occasion,  "Another  advantage  of  the  Israelitish  religion  I 
must  here  mention :  it  has  not  embodied  its  God  in  any  form, 
and  so  has  left  us  at  liberty  to  represent  him  in  a  worthy 
human  shape,  and  likewise,  by  way  of  contrast,  to  designate 
idolatry  by  forms  of  beasts  and  monsters." 

Our  friend  had  now,  in  his  short  wandering  through  this 
hall,  again  brought  the  spirit  of  universal  history  before  his 
mind  :  in  regard  to  the  events,  he  had  not  failed  to  meet  with 
something  new.  So  likewise,  by  the  simultaneous  present- 
ment of  the  pictures,  by  the  reflections  of  his  guide,  many 
new  views  had  risen  on  him ;  and  he  could  not  but  rejoice  in 
thinking  that  his  Felix  was,  by  so  dignified  a  visible  represen- 
tation, to  seize  and  appropriate  for  his  whole  life  those  great, 
significant,  and  exemplary  events,  as  if  they  had  actually 
been  present,  and  transacted  beside  him.  He  came  at  length, 
to  regard  the  exhibition  altogether  with  the  eyes  of  the  child, 
and  in  this  point  of  view  it  perfectly  contented  him.  Thus 
wandering  on,  they  had  now  reached  the  gloomy  and  per- 
plexed periods  of  the  history,  the  destruction  of  the  city 
and  the  temple,  the  murder,  exile,  slavery  of  whole  masse^ 
of  this  stiff-necked  people.  Its  subsequent  fortunes  were 
delineated  in  a  cunning  allegorical  way  :  a  real  historical  de-. 
lineation  of  them  would  have  lain  without  the  limits  of  true  art. 

At  this  point  the  gallery  abruptly  terminated  in  a  closed 
door,  and  Wilhelm  was  surprised  to  see  himself  already  at 
the  end.  "  In  your  historical  series,"  said  he,  "  I  find  a 
chasm.  You  have  destroyed  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem,  and 
dispersed  the  people  ;  yet  you  have  not  introduced  the  divine 
Man  who  taught  there  shortly  before,  to  whom,  shortly  be- 
fore, they  would  give  no  ear." 


168  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

"  To  have  done  this,  as  you  require  it,  would  have  been  an 
error.  The  life  of  that  divine  Man,  whom  you  allude  to, 
stands  in  no  connection  with  the  general  history  of  the  world 
in  his  time.  It  was  a  private  life,  his  teaching  was  a  teach- 
ing for  individuals.  What  has  publicly  befallen  vast  masses 
of  people,  and  the  minor  parts  which  compose  them,  belongs 
to  the  general  history  of  the  world,  to  the  general  religion  of 
the  world,  —  the  religion  we  have  named  the  first.  What  in- 
wardly befalls  individuals  belongs  to  the  second  religion,  the 
philosophical :  such  a  religion  was  it  that  Christ  taught  and 
practised,  so  long  as  he  went  about  on  earth.  For  this 
reason  the  external  here  closes,  and  I  now  open  to  3*011  the 
internal." 

A  door  went  back;  and  they  entered  a  similar  gallery, 
where  Wilhelm  soon  recognized  a  corresponding  series  of 
pictures  from  the  New  Testament.  They  seemed  as  if  by 
another  hand  than  the  first :  all  was  softer,  —  forms,  move- 
ments, accompaniments,  light,  and  coloring. 

"  Here,"  said  the  guide,  after  they  had  looked  over  a  few 
pictures,  "you  behold  neither  actions  nor  events,  but  mir- 
acles and  similitudes.  There  is  here  a  new  world,  a  new  ex- 
terior, different  from  the  former ;  and  an  interior,  which  was 
altogether  wanting  there.  By  miracles  and  similitudes  a  new 
world  is  opened  up.  Those  make  the  common  extraordinary, 
these  the  extraordinary  common." 

"You  will  have  the  goodness,"  said  Wilhelm,  "to  ex- 
plain these  few  words  more  minutely ;  for,  by  my  own  light, 
I  cannot." 

"  They  have  a  natural  meaning,"  said  the  other,  "  though 
a  deep  one.  Examples  will  bring  it  out  most  easily  and 
soonest.  There  is  nothing  more  common  and  customary 
than  eating  and  drinking ;  but  it  is  extraordinary  to  trans- 
form a  drink  into  another  of  more  noble  sort,  to  multiply  a 
portion  of  food  that  it  suffice  a  multitude.  Nothing  is  more 
common  than  sickness  and  corporeal  diseases ;  but  to  re- 
move, to  mitigate  these  by  spiritual  or  spiritual-like  means, 
is  extraordinary ;  and  even  in  this  lies  the  wonder  of  the 
miracle,  that  the  common  and  the  extraordinary,  the  possible 
and  the  impossible,  become  one.  With  the  similitude  again, 
with  the  parable,  the  converse  is  the  case ;  here  it  is  the 
sense,  the  view,  the  idea,  that  forms  the  high,  the  unattain- 
able, the  extraordinary.  When  this  embodies  itself  into 
common,  customary,  comprehensible  figure,  so  that  it  meets 
us  as  if  alive,  present,  actual,  so  that  we  can  seize  it,  ap- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  169 

propriate,  retain  it,  live  with  it  as  with  our  equal,  this  is  a 
second  sort  of  miracle,  and  is  justly  placed  beside  the  first 
sort,  —  nay,  perhaps  preferred  to  it.  Here  a  living  doctrine 
is  pronounced,  a  doctrine  which  can  cause  no  argument :  it 
is  not  an  opinion  about  what  is  right  and  wrong  ;  it  is  right 
and  wrong  themselves,  and  indisputably." 

This  part  of  the  gallery  was  shorter ;  indeed,  it  formed 
but  the  fourth  part  of  the  circuit  enclosing  the  interior  court. 
Yet,  if  in  the  former  part  you  merely  walked  along,  you  here 
liked  to  linger,  you  here  walked  to  and  fro.  The  objects 
were  not  so  striking,  not  so  varied  ;  yet  they  invited  you  the 
more  to  penetrate  their  deep,  still  meaning.  Our  two  friends, 
accordingly,  turned  round  at  the  end  of  the  space  ;  Wilhelm 
at  the  same  time  expressing  some  surprise  that  these  delinea- 
tions went  no  farther  than  the  Supper,  than  the  scene  where 
the  Master  and  his  disciples  part.  He  inquired  for  the  re- 
maining portion  of  the  history. 

"In  all  sorts  of  instruction,"  said  the  eldest,  "in  all 
sorts  of  communication,  we  are  fond  of  separating  whatever 
it  is  possible  to  separate ;  for  by  this  means  alone  can  the 
notion  of  importance  and  peculiar  significance  arise  in  the 
young  mind.  Actual  experience  of  itself  mingles  and  mixes 
all  things  together :  here,  accordingly,  we  have  entirely  dis- 
joined that  sublime  Man's  life  from  its  termination.  In  life, 
he  appears  as  a  true  philosopher,  —  let  not  the  expression 
stagger  you,  —  as  a  wise  man  in  the  highest  sense.  He 
stands  firm  to  his  point ;  he  goes  on  his  way  inflexibly ;  and 
while  he  exalts  the  lower  to  himself,  while  he  makes  the  ig- 
norant, the  poor,  the  sick,  partakers  of  his  wisdom,  of  his 
riches,  of  his  strength,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  in  no  wise 
conceals  his  divine  origin ;  he  dares  to  equal  himself  with 
God,  —  nay,  to  declare  that  he  himself  is  God.  In  this  man- 
ner is  he  wont,  from  youth  upwards,  to  astound  his  familiar 
friends ;  of  these  he  gains  a  part  to  his  own  cause,  irritates 
the  rest  against  him,  and  shows  to  all  men,  who  are  aiming 
at  a  certain  elevation  in  doctrine  and  life,  what  they  have  to 
look  for  from  the  world.  And  thus,  for  the  noble  portion  of 
mankind,  his  walk  and  conversation  are  even  more  instruc- 
tive and  profitable  than  his  death  ;  for  to  those  trials  every 
one  is  called,  to  this  trial  but  a  few.  Now,  omitting  all  that 
results  from  this  consideration,  do  but  look  at  the  touch- 
ing scene  of  the  Last  Supper.  Here  the  wise  Man,  as  it 
ever  is,  leaves  those  that  are  his  own  utterly  orphaned  behind 
him ;  and,  while  he  is  careful  for  the  good,  he  feeds  along 


170  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

with  them  a  traitor  by  whom  he  and  the  better  are  to  be  de- 
stroyed." 

With  these  words  the  eldest  opened  a  door,  and  Wil- 
helm  faltered  in  surprise  as  he  found  himself  again  in 
the  first  hall  at  the  entrance.  They  had  in  the  mean 
while,  as  he  now  saw,  passed  round  the  whole  circuit 
of  the  court.  "I  hoped,"  said  Wilhelm,  "you  were 
leading  me  to  the  conclusion ;  and  you  take  me  back  to 
the  beginning." 

"For  the  present,"  said  the  eldest,  "I  can  show  you 
nothing  further :  more  we  do  not  lay  before  our  pupils,  more 
we  do  not  explain  to  them,  than  what  you  have  now  gone 
through.  All  that  is  external,  worldly,  universal,  we  com- 
municate to  each  from  youth  upwards  ;  what  is  more  particu- 
larly spiritual,  and  conversant  with  the  heart,  to  those  only 
who  grow  up  with  some  thoughtf  ulness  of  temper ;  and  the 
rest,  which  is  opened  only  once  a  year,  cannot  be  imparted 
save  to  those  whom  we  are  sending  forth  as  finished.  That 
last  religion  which  arises  from  the  reverence  of  what  is  be- 
neath us  ;  that  veneration  of  the  contradictory,  the  hated, 
the  avoided,  —  we  give  each  of  our  pupils  in  small  portions, 
by  way  of  outfit,  along  with  him  into  the  world,  merely  that 
he  may  know  where  more  is  to  be  had  should  such  a  want 
spring  up  within  him.  I  invite  you  to  return  hither  at  the 
end  of  a  year,  to  visit  our  general  festival,  and  see  how  far 
your  son  is  advanced :  then  shall  you  be  admitted  into  the 
sauctuaiy  of  sorrow." 

"  Permit  me  one  question,"  said  Wilhelm  :  "  as  you  have 
set  up  the  life  of  this  divine  Man  for  a  pattern  and  example, 
have  you  likewise  selected  his  sufferings,  his  death,  as  a 
model  of  exalted  patience?" 

"  Undoubtedly  we  have,"  replied  the  eldest.  "  Of  this 
we  make  no  secret ;  but  we  draw  a  veil  over  those  sufferings, 
even  because  we  reverence  them  so  highly.  We  hold  it  a 
damnable  audacity  to  bring  forth  that  torturing  cross  and  the 
Holy  One  who  suffers  on  it,  or  to  expose  them  to  the  light  of 
the  sun,  which  hid  its  face  when  a  reckless  world  forced  such 
a  sight  on  it,  to  take  these  mysterious  secrets,  in  which  the 
divine  depth  of  sorrow  lies  hid,  and  play  with  them,  fondle 
them,  trick  them  out,  and  rest  not  till  the  most  reverend  of 
all  solemnities  appears  vulgar  and  paltry.  Let  so  much,  for 
the  present,  suffice  to  put  your  mind  at  peace  respecting  your 
son,  and  to  convince  you,  that,  on  meeting  him  again,  you 
will  find  him  trained,  more  or  less,  in  one  department  or 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  171 

another,  but  at  least  in  a  proper  way,  and,  at  all  events,  not 
wavering,  perplexed,  and  unstable." 

Wilhelm  still  lingered,  looking  at  the  pictures  in  this  en- 
trance-hall, and  wishing  to  get  explanation  of  their  meaning. 
"  This,  too,"  said  the  eldest,  "  we  must  still  owe  you  for  a 
twelvemonth.  The  instruction  which,  in  the  interim,  we  give 
the  children,  no  stranger  is  allowed  to  witness :  then,  how- 
ever, come  to  us  ;  and  you  will  hear  what  our  best  speakeis 
think  it  serviceable  to  make  public  on  these  matters." 

Shortly  after  this  conversation  a  knocking  was  heard  at 
the  little  gate.  The  overseer  of  last  night  announced  him- 
self ;  he  had  brought  out  Wilhelm 's  horse :  and  so  our 
friend  took  leave  of  the  Three,  who,  as  he  set  out,  consigned 
him  to  the  overseer  with  these  words  :  "This  man  is  now 
numbered  among  the  trusted,  and  thou  understandest  what 
thou  hast  to  tell  him  in  answer  to  his  questions  ;  for,  doubt- 
less, he  still  wishes  to  be  informed  on  much  that  he  has  seen 
and  heard  while  here  :  purpose  and  circumstance  are  known 
to  thee." 

Wilhelm  had,  in  fact,  some  more  questions  on  his  mind ; 
and  these  he  erelong  put  into  words.  As  they  rode  along  they 
were  saluted  by  the  children  as  on  the  preceding  evening  ; 
but  to-day,  though  rarely,  he  now  and  then  observed  a  boy 
who  did  not  pause  in  his  work  to  salute  the  overseer,  but 
let  him  pass  unheeded.  Wilhelm  asked  the  cause  of  this, 
and  what  such  an  exception  meant.  His  companion  an- 
swered, "It  is  full  of  meaning,  for  it  is  the  highest  pun- 
ishment we  inflict  on  our  pupils  :  they  are  declared  unworthy 
to  show  reverence,  and  obliged  to  exhibit  themselves  as  rude 
and  uncultivated  natures ;  but  they  do  their  utmost  to  get 
free  of  this  situation,  and  in  general  adapt  themselves  with 
great  rapidity  to  any  duty.  Should  a  young  creature,  on  the 
other  hand,  obdurately  make  no  attempt  at  return  and 
amendment,  he  is  then  sent  back  to  his  parents  with  a  brief 
but  pointed  statement  of  his  case.  Whoever  cannot  suit 
himself  to  the  regulations  must  leave  the  district  where  they 
are  in  force." 

Another  circumstance  excited  Wilhelm's  curiosity  to-day 
a--*  it  had  done  yesterday,  —  the  variety  of  color  and  shape 
apparent  in  the  dress  of  the  pupils.  Hereby  no  gradation 
^ould  be  indicated ;  for  children  who  saluted  differently  were 
sometimes  clothed  alike,  and  others  agreeing  in  salutation 
differed  in  apparel.  Wilhelm  inquired  the  reason  of  this 
seeming  contradiction.  "  It  will  be  explained,"  said  the 


172  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

other,  "  when  I  tell  you,  that,  by  this  means,  we  endeavor  to 
find  out  the  children's  several  characters.  With  all  our  gen- 
eral strictness  and  regularity,  we  allow  in  this  point  a  certain 
latitude  of  choice.  Within  the  limits  of  our  own  stores  of 
cloths  and  garnitures  the  pupils  are  permitted  to  select  what 
color  they  please ;  and  so,  likewise,  within  moderate  limits, 
in  regard  to  shape  and  cut.  Their  procedure  in  these  mat- 
ters we  accurately  note  ;  for,  by  the  color,  we  discover  their 
turn  of  thinking ;  by  the  cut,  their  turn  of  acting.  How- 
ever, a  decisive  judgment  in  this  is  rendered  difficult  by  one 
peculiar  property  of  human  nature,  —  by  the  tendency  to 
imitate,  the  inclination  to  unite  with  something.  It  is  very 
seldom  that  a  pupil  fancies  any  dress  that  has  not  been 
already  there :  for  most  part,  they  select  something  known, 
something  which  they  see  before  their  eyes.  Yet  this  also 
we  find  worth  observing :  by  such  external  circumstances 
they  declare  themselves  of  one  party  or  another ;  the}*  unite 
with  this  or  that ;  and  thus  some  general  features  of  their 
characters  are  indicated ;  we  perceive  whither  each  tends, 
what  example  he  follows. 

"We  have  had  cases  where  the  dispositions  of  our  chil- 
dren verged  to  generality,  where  one  fashion  threatened  to 
extend  over  all,  and  any  deviation  from  it  to  dwindle  into 
the  state  of  exception.  Such  a  turn  of  matters  we  endeavor 
softly  to  stop  :  we  let  our  stores  run  out ;  this  and  that  sort 
of  stuff,  this  and  that  sort  of  decoration,  is  no  longer  to  be 
had  :  we  introduce  something  new  and  attractive  ;  by  bright 
colors,  and  short,  smart  shape,  we  allure  the  lively  ;  by  grave 
shadings,  by  commodious,  many-folded  make,  the  thought- 
ful,—  and  thus,  by  degrees,  restore  the  equilibrium. 

"  For  to  uniform  we  are  altogether  disinclined  :  it  conceals 
the  character,  and,  more  than  any  other  species  of  distor- 
tion, withdraws  the  peculiarities  of  children  from  the  eye  of 
their  superiors." 

Amid  this  and  other  conversation,  Wilhelm  reached  the 
border  of  the  province,  and  this  at  the  point  where,  by  the 
direction  of  his  antiquarian  friend,  he  was  to  leave  it,  to  pur- 
sue his  next  special  object. 

At  parting,  it  was  now  settled  with  the  overseer,  that,  after 
the  space  of  a  twelvemonth,  Wilhelm  should  return,  when  the 
grand  triennial  festival  was  to  be  celebrated,  on  which  occa- 
sion all  the  parents  were  invited,  and  finished  pupils  were 
sent  forth  into  the  tasks  of  chanceful  life.  Then,  too,  so  he 
was  informed,  he  might  visit  at  his  pleasure  all  the  other 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.       .  I"/ 3 

districts,  where,  on  peculiar  principles,  each  branch  of  edu- 
cation was  communicated,  and  reduced  to  practice,  in  com- 
plete isolation  and  with  every  furtherance. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Hersilia  to  Wilhelm. 

MY  valued,  and,  to  speak  it  plainly,  dear  friend,  you  are 
wrong,  and  yet,  as  acting  on  your  own  conviction,  not  wrong 
either.  So  the  nut-brown  maid  is  found,  then,  —  found, 
seen,  spoken  to,  known,  and  acknowledged !  And  you  tell 
us  further,  that  it  is  impossible  to  wish  this  strange  person, 
in  her  own  way,  any  happier  condition,  or,  in  her  present 
one,  to  be  of  any  real  advantage  to  her. 

And  now  you  make  it  a  point  of  conscience  not  to  tell  us 
where  that  wondrous  being  lives.  This  you  may  settle  with 
your  own  conscience,  but  to  us  it  is  unconscionable.  You 
think  to  calm  Lenardo  by  assuring  him  that  she  is  well.  He 
had  said,  almost  promised,  that  he  would  content  himself 
with  this ;  but  what  will  not  the  passionate  promise  for 
others  and  themselves  !  Know,  then,  that  the  matter  is  not 
in  the  least  concluded  as  it  yet  stands.  She  is  happy,  you 
tell  us,  —  happy  by  her  own  activity  and  merit :  but  the  youth 
would  like  to  learn  the  How,  the  When,  and  the  Where ; 
and,  what  is  worse  than  this,  his  sisters,  too,  would  like  to 
learn.  Half  a  year  is  gone  since  your  departure :  till  the 
end  of  another  half-year  we  cannot  hope  to  see  you.  Could 
not  you,  like  a  shrewd  and  knowing  man,  contrive  to  play 
your  eternal  Rouge-et-Noir  in  our  neighborhood?  I  have 
seen  people  that  could  make  the  knight  skip  over  all  the 
chess-board  without  ever  lighting  twice  on  one  spot.  You 
should  learn  this  feat :  your  friends  would  not  have  to  want 
you  so  long. 

But,  to  set  my  good  will  to  j*ou  in  the  clearest  light,  I 
now  tell  you  in  confidence,  that  there  are  two  most  enchant- 
ing creatures  on  the  road :  whence  I  say  not,  nor  whither ; 
described  the3T  cannot  be,  and  no  eulogy  will  do  them 
justice.  A  younger  and  an  elder  lady,  between  whom  it 
always  grieves  one  to  make  choice,  —  the  former  so  lovely, 


174  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

that  all  must  wish  to  be  loved  by  her ;  the  latter  so  attrac- 
tive, that  you  must  wish  to  live  beside  her,  though  she  did 
not  love  you.  I  could  like,  with  all  my  heart,  to  see  you 
hemmed  in  for  three  daj's  between  these  two  splendors : 
on  the  morning  of  the  fourth,  your  rigorous  vow  would 
stand  you  in  excellent  stead. 

By  wav  of  foretaste  I  send  you  a  story,  which,  in  some 
degree,  refers  to  them :  what  of  it  is  true  or  fictitious  you 
can  try  to  learn  from  themselves. 


THE   MAN   OF   FIFTY. 

The  major  came  riding  into  the  court  of  the  mansion ; 
and  Hilaria,  his  niece,  was  already  standing  without,  to 
receive  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  which  led  up  to  the 
apartments.  Scarcely  could  he  recognize  her ;  for  she  had 
grown,  both  in  stature  and  beauty.  She  flew  to  meet 
him :  he  pressed  her  to  his  breast  with  the  feeling  of  a 
father. 

To  the  baroness,  his  sister,  he  was  likewise  welcome ; 
and,  as  Hilaria  hastily  retired  to  prepare  breakfast,  the 
major  said  with  a  joyful  air,  "  For  this  time  I  can  come  to 
the  point  at  once,  and  say  that  our  business  is  finished. 
Our  brother,  the  chief  marshal,  has  at  last  convinced  him- 
self that  he  can  neither  manage  farmers  nor  stewards.  In 
his  lifetime  he  makes  over  the  estates  to  us  and  our  chil- 
dren :  the  annuity  he  bargains  for  is  high,  indeed,  but  we 
can  still  pay  it ;  we  gain  something  for  the  present,  and 
for  the  future  all.  This  new  arrangement  is  to  be  completed 
forthwith.  And,  as  I  very  soon  expect  my  discharge,  I  can 
'  again  look  forward  to  an  active  life,  which  may  secure 
decided  advantages  to  us  and  ours.  We  shall  calmly  see 
our  children  growing  up  beside  us ;  and  it  will  depend  on 
us,  on  them,  to  hasten  their  union." 

"All  this  were  well,"  said  the  baroness,  "had  not  I  a 
secret  to  inform  thee  of,  which  I  myself  discovered  first. 
Hilaria' s  heart  is  no  longer  free :  on  her  side  thy  son  has 
little  or  nothing  to  hope  for." 

"What  sayest  thou?"  cried  the  major.  "Is  it  possi- 
ble? While  we  have  been  taking  all  pains  to  settle  eco- 
nomical concerns,  does  inclination  play  us  such  a  trick? 
Tell  me,  love,  quick,  tell  me,  who  is  it  that  has  fettered 
Hilaria's  heart?  Or  is  it,  then,  so  bad  as  this?  Is  it  not, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  175 

perhaps,  some  transient  impression  we  may  hope  to  efface 
again  ?  ' ' 

"Thou  must  think  and  guess  a  little  first,"  replied  the 
baroness,  and  thereby  heightened  his  impatience.  Jt  had 
mounted  to  the  utmost  pitch,  when  the  entrance  of  Hilaria, 
with  the  servants  bringing  in  breakfast,  put  a  negative  on 
any  quick  solution  of  the  riddle. 

The  major  himself  thought  he  saw  the  fair  girl  with 
other  eyes  than  a  little  while  before.  He  almost  felt  as  if 
jealous  of  the  happy  man  whose  image  had  been  able  to 
imprint  itself  on  a  soul  so  lovely.  The  breakfast  he  could 
not  relish ;  and  he  noticed  not  that  all  was  ordered  as  he 
liked  to  have  it,  and  as  he  had  used  to  wish  and  require  it. 

In  this  silence  and  stagnation  Hilaria  herself  almost  lost 
her  liveliness.  The  mother  felt  embarrassed,  and  led  her 
daughter  to  the  harpsichord ;  but  Hilaria' s  sprightly  and 
expressive  playing  scarcely  extorted  any  approbation  from 
the  major.  He  wished  the  breakfast  and  the  lovely  girl 
fairly  out  of  the  way ;  and  the  baroness  was  at  last  obliged 
to  resolve  on  breaking  up,  and  proposed  to  her  brother  a 
walk  in  the  garden. 

No  sooner  were  they  by  themselves,  than  the  major  press- 
ingly  repeated  his  question,  to  which,  after  a  pause,  his 
sister  answered,  smiling,  "  If  thou  wouldst  find  the  happy 
man  whom  she  loves,  thou  hast  not  far  to  go :  he  is  quite 
at  hand;  she  loves  tliee!" 

The  major  stopped  in  astonishment,  then  cried,  "  It  were 
a  most  unseasonable  jest  to  trick  me  into  such  a  thought, 
which,  if  true,  would  make  me  so  embarrassed  and  unhappy. 
For,  though  I  need  time  to  recover  from  my  amazement,  I 
see  at  one  glance  how  grievously  our  circumstances  would 
l>e  disturbed  by  so  unlooked-for  an  accident.  The  only 
thing  that  comforts  me,  is  my  persuasion  that  attachments 
of  this  sort  are  apparent  merely,  that  a  self-deception  lurks 
behind  them,  and  that  a  good,  true  soul  will  undoubtedly 
return  from  such  mistakes,  either  by  its  own  strength,  or 
at  least  by  a  little  help  from  judicious  friends." 

"I  am  not  of  that  opinion,"  said  the  baroness:  "by 
all  the  symptoms,  Hilaria's  present  feeling  is  a  very  serious 
one." 

"  A  thing  so  unnatural  I  should  not  have  expected  from 
so  natural  a  character,"  replied  the  major. 

"So  unnatural  it  is  not,  after  all,"  said  his  sister.  "I 
myself  recollect  having,  in  my  own  youth,  an  attachment 


176  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

to  a  man  still  older  than  thou.  Thou  art  fifty,  —  not  so  very 
great  an  age  for  a  German,  if,  perhaps,  other  livelier  nations 
do  fail  sooner." 

"But  how  dost  thou  support  thy  conjecture?"  said  the 
major. 

"It  is  no  conjecture,  it  is  certainty.  The  details  thou 
shalt  learn  by  and  by." 

Hilaria  joined  them ;  and  the  major  felt  himself,  against 
his  will,  a  second  time  altered.  Her  presence  seemed  to 
him  still  dearer  and  more  precious  than  before,  her  manner 
more  affectionate  and  tender  :  already  he  began  to  put  some 
faith  in  his  sister's  statement.  The  feeling  was  highly 
delightful,  though  he  neither  would  permit  nor  confess  this 
to  his  mind.  Hilaria  was,  in  truth,  peculiarly  interesting : 
her  manner  blended  in  closest  union  a  soft  shyness  as 
towards  a  lover,  and  a  trustful  frankness  as  towards  an 
uncle ;  for  she  really,  and  with  her  whole  soul,  loved  him. 
The  garden  lay  in  all  the  pomp  of  spring ;  and  the  major, 
who  saw  so  many  old  trees  again  putting  on  their  vesture, 
might  also  believe  in  the  returning  of  his  own  spring.  And 
who  would  not  have  been  tempted  to  it,  at  the  side  of  this 
most  lovely  maiden. 

So  passed  the  day  with  them ;  the  various  household 
epochs  were  gone  through  in  high  cheerfulness :  in  the 
evening,  after  supper,  Hilaria  returned  to  her  harpischord ; 
the  major  listened  with  other  ears  than  in  the  morning : 
one  melody  winded  into  another,  one  song  produced  a  sec- 
ond ;  and  scarcely  could  midnight  separate  the  little  party. 

On  retiring  to  his  room,  the  major  found  every  thing 
arranged  to  suit  his  old  habitual  conveniences  :  some  copper- 
plates, even,  which  he  liked  to  look  at,  had  been  shifted 
from  other  apartments;  and,  his  eyes  being  at  last  opened, 
he  saw  himself  attended  to  and  flattered  in  the  most  minute 
particulars. 

A  few  hours'  sleep  sufficed  on  this  occasion :  his  buoyant 
spirits  aroused  him  early.  But  now  he  soon  found  occasion 
to  observe  that  a  new  order  of  things  carries  manj-  incon- 
veniences along  with  it.  His  old  groom,  who  also  dis- 
charged the  functions  of  lackey  and  valet,  lie  had  not  once 
reproved  during  many  years,  for  all  went  its  usual  course 
in  the  most  rigid  order ;  the  horses  were  dressed  and  the 
clothes  brushed  at  the  proper  moment :  but  to-day  the  mas- 
ter had  risen  earlier,  and  nothing  suited  as  it  used  to  do. 

Erelong  a  new  circumstance  combined  with  this  to  ruffle 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  177 

him  still  further.  At  other  times  all  had  been  right,  as  his 
servant  had  prepared  it  for  him :  now,  however,  on  advan- 
cing to  the  glass,  he  found  himself  not  at  all  as  he  wished  to 
be.  Some  gra}-  hairs  he  could  not  deny,  and  of  wrinkles 
also  there  appears  to  have  been  a  trace  or  two.  He  wiped 
and  powdered  more  than  usual,  and  was  fain  at  last  to 
let  matters  stand  as  they  could.  Then  it  seemed  there  were 
still  creases  in  his  coat,  and  still  dust  on  his  boots.  The 
old  groom  knew  not  what  to  make  of  this,  and  was  amazed 
to  see  so  altered  a  master  before  him. 

In  spite  of  all  these  hinderances,  the  major  got  down  to  the 
garden  in  good  time.  Hilaria,  whom  he  hoped  to  find  there, 
he  actually  found.  She  brought  him  a  nosegay  ;  and  he  had 
not  the  heart  to  kiss  her  as  usual,  and  press  her  to  his  breast. 
He  felt  himself  in  the  most  delightful  embarrassment,  and 
yielded  to  his  feelings  without  reflecting  whither  they  might 
carry  him. 

The  baroness  soon  joined  them  and,  directing  her  brother 
to  a  note  which  had  just  been  brought  her  by  a  special  mes- 
senger, she  cried,  "  Thou  wilt  not  guess  whom  this  announces 
to  us!" 

"Tell  us  at  once,  then,"  said  the  major;  and  it  now 
appeared  that  an  old  theatrical  friend  was  travelling  by  a 
road  not  far  off,  and  purposing  to  call  for  a  moment.  "  I 
am  anxious  to  see  him  again,"  said  the  major:  "he  is  no 
chicken  now,  and  I  hear  he  still  plays  young  parts." 

"He  must  be  ten  years  older  than  thou,"  replied  the 
baroness. 

"He  must,"  said  the  major,  "from  all  that  I  remem- 
ber." 

They  had  not  waited  long,  when  a  lively,  handsome,  cour- 
teous man  stepped  forward  to  them.  Yet  the  friends  soon 
recognized  each  other,  and  recollections  of  all  sorts  enliv- 
ened the  conversation.  They  proceeded  to  questions,  to 
answers,  to  narratives :  they  mutually  made  known  their 
present  situations,  and  in  a  short  time  felt  as  if  they  had 
never  been  separated. 

Secret  history  informs  us  that  this  person  had,  in  former 
days,  being  then  a  very  elegant  and  graceful  youth,  the  good 
or  bad  fortune  to  attract  the  favor  of  a  lady  of  rank  ;  that, 
by  this  means,  he  had  come  into  perplexity  and  danger,  out 
of  which  the  major,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  saddest 
fate  seemed  impending,  had  happily  delivered  him.  From 
that  hour  he  continued  grateful  to  the  brother  as  well  as  to 


178  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

the  sister ;  for  it  was  she  that,  by  timeful  warning,  had  ori- 
ginated their  precautions. 

For  a  while  before  dinner  the  men  were  left  alone.  Not 
without  surprise,  nay,  in  some  measure  with  amazement,  had 
the  major  viewed,  as  a  whole  and  in  detail,  the  exterior 
condition  of  his  old  friend.  He  seemed  not  in  the  smallest 
altered,  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  could  still 
appear  on  the  stage  as  an  actor  of  youthful  parts.  "  Thou 
inspectest  me  more  strictly  than  is  fair,"  said  he  at  last  to 
the  major:  "  I  fear  thou  findest  the  difference  between  this 
and  by-gone  times  but  too  great. ' ' 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  major:  "on  the  contrary,  it 
fills  me  with  astonishment  to  find  thy  look  fresher  and 
younger  than  mine  ;  though  I  know  thou  wert  a  firm-set  man 
at  the  time  when  I,  with  the  boldness  of  a  callow  desperado, 
stood  by  thee  in  certain  straits." 

"It  is  thy  own  fault,"  replied  the  other:  "it  is  the  fault 
of  all  like  thee ;  and,  though  you  are  not  to  be  loudly  cen- 
sured for  it,  you  are  still  to  be  blamed.  You  think  only  of 
the  needful :  you  wish  to  be,  not  to  seem.  This  is  very  well 
so  long  as  one  is  any  thing.  But  when,  at  last,  being  comes 
to  recommend  itself  by  seeming,  and  this  seeming  is  found  to 
be  even  more  transient  than  the  being,  then  every  one  of 
you  discovers  that  he  should  not  have  done  amiss,  if,  in  his 
care  for  what  was  inward,  he  had  not  entirely  neglected  what 
was  outward." 

"  Thou  art  right,"  replied  the  major,  and  could  scarcely 
suppress  a  sigh. 

"Perhaps  not  altogether  right,"  said  the  aged  youth; 
"  for  though  in  my  trade  it  were  unpardonable  if  one  did 
not  try  to  parget  up  the  outward  man  as  long  as  possible, 
you  people  need  to  think  of  other  things,  which  are  more 
important  and  profitable." 

"  Yet  there  are  occasions,"  said  the  major,  "  when  a  man 
feels  fresh  internally,  and  could  wish,  with  all  his  heart,  that 
he  were  fresh  externally  too." 

As  the  stranger  could  not  have  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
the  major's  real  state  of  mind,  he  took  these  words  in  a 
soldierly  sense,  and  copiously  explained  how  much  depended 
on  externals  in  the  art  military,  and  how  the  officer  who  had 
so  much  attention  to  bestow  on  dress  might  apply  a  little 
also  to  skin  and  haii. 

"For  exampie,"  continued  he,  "it  is  inexcusable  that 
your  temples  are  already  gray,  that  wrinkles  are  here  and 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  179 

there  gathering  together,  and  that  your  crown  threatens  to 
grow  bald.  Now  look  at  me,  old  fellow  as  I  am  !  See  how 
I  have  held  out !  And  all  this  without  witchcraft,  and  with 
far  less  pains  and  care  than  others  take,  day  after  day,  in 
spoiling,  or  at  least  wearying,  themselves." 

The  major  found  this  accidental  conversation  too  precious 
an  affair  to  think  of  ending  it  soon,  but  he  went  to  work 
softly  and  with  precaution  towards  even  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. "This  opportunity,  alas!  1  have  lost,"  cried  he; 
"  and  it  is  past  recalling  now:  I  must  even  content  myself 
as  I  am,  and  you  will  not  think  worse  of  me  on  that  ac- 
count." 

"Lost  it  is  not,"  said  the  other,  "were  not  you  grave 
gentlemen  so  stiff  and  stubborn,  did  you  not  directly  call 
one  vain  if  he  thinks  about  his  person,  and  cast  away  from 
you  the  happiness  of  being  in  pleasant  company,  and  pleas- 
ing there  yourselves." 

"If  it  is  not  magic,"  smiled  the  major,  "  that  you  people 
use  for  keeping  yourselves  young,  it  is,  at  all  events,  a 
secret :  or,  at  least,  you  have  arcana,  such  as  one  often  sees 
bepraised  in  newspapers ;  and  from  these  you  pick  out  the 
best." 

"Joke  or  earnest,"  said  the  other,  "  thou  hast  spoken 
truth.  Among  the  many  things  that  have  been  tried  for 
giving  some  repair  to  the  exterior,  which  often  fails  far 
sooner  than  the  interior,  there  are,  in  fact,  certain  invaluable 
recipes,  simple  as  well  as  compound  ;  which,  as  imparted  to 
me  by  brethren  of  the  craft,  purchased  for  ready  money,  or 
hit  upon  by  chance,  I  have  proved,  and  found  effectual.  By 
these  I  now  hold  fast  and  persevere,  yet  without  abandoning 
my  further  researches.  So  much  I  may  tell  thee,  and  with- 
out exaggeration  :  a  dressing-box  I  carry  with  me  beyond  all 
price  !  A  box  whose  influences  I  could  like  to  try  on  thee,  if 
we  chanced  any  time  to  be  a  fortnight  together." 

The  thought  that  such  a  thing  was  possible,  and  that  this 
possibility  was  held  out  to  him  so  accidentally  at  the  very 
moment  of  need,  enlivened  the  spirit  of  the  major  to  such  a 
degree  that  he  actually  appeared  much  fresher  and  brisker 
already  :  at  table,  excited  by  the  hope  of  bringing  head  and 
face  into  harmony  with  his  heart,  and  by  eagerness  to  get 
acquainted  with  the  methods  of  doing  so,  he  was  quite 
another  man  ;  he  met  Hilaria's  graceful  attentions  with  alac- 
rity of  soul,  and  even  looked  at  her  with  a  certain  confidence, 
which,  in  the  morning,  he  was  far  from  feeling. 


180  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

If  the  dramatic  stranger  had  contrived,  by  many  recollec- 
tions, stories,  and  happy  hits,  to  keep  up  the  cheerful  humor 
once  excited,  he  so  much  the  more  alarmed  the  major,  on 
signifying,  when  the  cloth  was  removed,  that  he  must  now 
think  of  setting  forth,  and  continuing  his  journey.  By  every 
scheme  in  his  power  the  major  strove  to  facilitate  his  friend's 
stay,  at  least  for  the  night ;  he  pressingly  engaged  to  have 
horses  and  relaj'S  in  readiness  next  morning  :  in  a  word,  the 
healing  toilet  was  absolutely  not  to  get  out  of  the  premises, 
till  once  he  had  obtained  more  light  on  its  contents  and  use. 

The  major  saw  very  well  that  here  no  time  must  be  lost : 
he  accordingly  endeavored,  soon  after  dinner,  to  take  his  old 
favorite  aside  and  speak  with  him  in  private.  Not  having 
the  heart  to  proceed  directly  to  the  point,  he  steered  towards 
it  from  afar  off,  and,  taking  up  the  former  conversation,  sig- 
nified that  he,  for  his  part,  would  willingly  bestow  more 
care  on  his  exterior,  were  it  not  that  people,  the  moment 
they  observed  a  man  making  such  an  attempt,  marked  him 
down  for  vain,  and  so  deducted  from  him,  in  regard  to  moral 
esteem,  what  they  felt  obliged  to  yield  him  in  regard  to 
sensible. 

' '  Do  not  vex  me  with  such  phrases !  ' '  said  his  friend : 
"  these  are  words  to  which  society  has  got  accustomed  with- 
out attaching  any  meaning  to  them,  or,  if  we  take  it  up 
more  strictly,  by  which  it  indicates  its  unfriendly  and  spiteful 
nature.  If  thou  consider  it  rightly,  what,  after  all,  is  this 
same  vanity  they  make  so  much  ado  about?  Every  man 
should  feel  some  pleasure  in  himself,  and  happy  he  who  feels 
it.  But,  if  he  does  feel  it,  how  can  he  help  letting  others 
notice  it?  How  shall  he  hide,  in  the  midst  of  life,  that  it 
gives  him  joy  to  be  alive?  If  good  society,  and  I  mean  this 
exclusively  here,  only  blamed  such  indications  when  they 
became  too  violent ;  when  the  joy  of  one  man  over  his  exist- 
ence hindered  others  to  have  joy  and  to  show  it  over  theirs,  — 
it  were  good  and  well ;  and  from  this  excess  the  censure  has, 
in  fact,  originally  sprung.  But  what  are  we  to  make  of  that 
strange,  prim,  abnegating  rigor  against  a  thing  which  can- 
not be  avoided  ?  Why  should  not  a  disphiy  of  feeling  on 
the  part  of  others  be  considered  innocent  and  tolerable, 
which,  more  or  less,  we  from  time  to  time  allow  ourselves? 
For  it  is  the  pleasure  one  has  in  himself,  the  desire  to  com- 
municate this  consciousness  of  his  to  others,  that  makes  a 
man  agreeable,  —  the  feeling  of  his  own  grace  that  makes  him 
graceful.  Would  to  Heaven  all  men  were  vain  !  that  is,  were 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  181 

vain  with  clear  perception,  with  moderation,  and  in  a  proper 
sense :  we  should  then,  in  the  cultivated  world,  have  happy 
times  of  it.  Women,  it  is  told  us,  are  vain  from  the  very 
cradle  ;  yet  does  it  not  become  them,  do  they  not  please  us 
the  more  ?  How  can  a  youth  form  himself  if  he  is  not  vain  ? 
An  empty,  hollow  nature  will,  by  this  means,  at  least  con- 
trive to  give  itself  an  outward  show ;  and  a  proper  man 
will  soon  train  himself  from  the  outside  inwards.  As  to  my 
own  share,  I  have  reason  to  consider  myself,  in  this  point,  a 
most  happy  man  :  for  my  trade  justifies  me  in  being  vain  ; 
and,  the  vainer  I  am,  the  more  satisfaction  I  give.  I  am 
praised  when  others  are  blamed,  and  have  still,  in  this  very 
way,  the  happiness  and  the  right  to  gratify  and  charm  the 
public  at  an  age  when  others  are  constrained  to  retire  from 
the  scene,  or  linger  on  it  only  with  disgrace." 

The  major  heard  with  no  great  joy  the  issue  of  these  reflec- 
tions. The  little  word  vanity,  as  he  pronounced  it,  had  been 
meant  to  serve  as  a  transition  for  enabling  him  to  introduce, 
with  some  propriety,  the  statement  of  his  own  wish.  But 
now  he  was  afraid,  if  their  dialogue  proceeded  thus,  he 
should  be  led  still  farther  from  his  aim :  so  he  hastened  to 
the  point  directly. 

"For  my  own  part,"  said  he,  "  I  should  by  no  means 
disincline  to  enlist  under  thy  flag,  since  thou  still  boldest  it 
to  be  in  time,  and  thinkest  I  might  }*et  in  some  degree  make 
up  for  what  is  lost.  Impart  to  me  somewhat  of  thy  tinctures, 
pomades,  and  balsams  ;  and  I  will  make  a  trial  of  them." 

"  Imparting,"  said  the  other,  "  is  a  harder  task  than  you 
suppose.  Here,  for  example,  it  were  still  to  small  purpose 
that  I  poured  thee  out  some  liquors  from  my  vials,  and  left 
the  half  of  the  best  ingredients  in  my  toilet :  the  appliance 
is  the  hardest.  You  cannot,  on  the  instant,  appropriate  what 
is  given  you.  How  this  and  that  suit  together ;  under  what 
circumstances,  in  what  sequence,  things  are  to  be  used,  —  all 
this  requires  practice  and  study,  —  nay,  study  and  practice 
themselves  will  scarcely  profit,  if  one  bring  not  to  the  busi- 
ness a  natural  genius  for  it." 

"Thou  art  now,  it  seems,  for  drawing  back,"  said  the 
major.  "Thou  raisest  difficulties  when  I  would  have  thy 
truly  somewhat  fabulous  assertions  rendered  certain.  Thou 
hast  no  mind  to  let  me  try  thy  words  by  the  test  of  action." 

" By  such  banterings,  my  friend,"  replied  the  other,  "thou 
wouldst  not  prevail  on  me  to  gratify  thy  wish,  if  it  were  not 
that  I  entertain  such  affection  for  thee,  and,  indeed,  first  made 


182  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

the  proposal  myself.  Besides,  if  we  consider  it,  man  has 
quite  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  making  proselytes ;  in  bringing 
what  he  values  in  himself  into  view  also,  without  himself,  on 
others  ;  causing  others  to  enjoy  what  he  enjoys  ;  finding  in 
others  his  own  likeness,  represented  and  reflected  back  to 
him.  In  sooth,  if  this  is  selfishness,  it  is  of  the  most  laud- 
able and  lovable  sort,  —  that  selfishness  which  has  made  us 
men  and  keeps  us  so.  From  this  universal  feeling,  then, 
apart  from  my  friendship  to  thee,  I  shall  be  happy  in  having 
such  a  scholar  in  the  great  youth-renewing  art.  But,  as  from 
a  master  it  may  be  expected  that  he  shall  produce  no  botcher 
by  his  training,  I  confess  myself  a  little  at  a  loss  how  to  set 
about  it.  I  told  thee  already  that  neither  recipes  nor  instruc- 
tions would  avail :  the  practice  cannot  be  taught  by  universal 
rules.  For  thy  sake,  and  from  the  wish  to  propagate  my 
doctrine,  I  am  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice.  The  greatest 
my  power  for  the  present  moment  I  will  now  propose  to 
thee.  I  shall  leave  my  servant  here,  —  a  sort  of  waiting- 
man  and  conjurer, — who,  if  he  does  not  understand  prepar- 
ing every  thing,  if  he  has  not  yet  been  initiated  into  all  the 
mysteries,  can  apply  my  preparations  perfectly,  and,  in  the 
first  stage  of  the  attempt,  will  be  of  great  use  to  thee,  till 
once  thou  have  worked  thy  way  so  far  into  the  art,  that  I 
may  reveal  to  thee  the  higher  secrets  also." 

"  How !  "  cried  the  major,  "  thou  hast  stages  and  degrees 
in  thy  art  of  making  young?  Thou  hast  secrets,  even  for 
the  initiated?  " 

"No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  the  other.  "That  were  but 
a  sony  art  which  could  be  comprehended  all  at  once,  the 
last  point  of  which  could  be  seen  by  one  just  entering  its 
precincts." 

Without  loss  of  time  the  waiting-man  was  formally  con- 
signed to  the  major,  who  engaged  to  treat  him  handsomely. 
The  baroness  was  called  on  for  drawers,  boxes,  glasses,  to 
what  purpose  she  knew  not ;  the  partition  of  the  toilet-store 
went  forward ;  the  friends  kept  together  in  a  gay  and 
sprightly  mood  till  after  nightfall.  At  moonrise,  some  time 
later,  the  guest  took  his  leave,  promising  erelong  to  return. 

The  major  reached  his  chamber  pretty  much  fatigued.  He 
had  risen  early,  had  not  spared  himself  throughout  the  day, 
and  now  hoped  very  soon  to  get  to  bed.  But  here,  instead  of 
one  servant,  he  found  two.  The  old  groom,  in  his  old  way, 
rapidty  undressed  him ;  but  now  the  waiting-man  stepped 
forth,  and  signified,  that,  for  appliances  of  a  renovating  and 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  183 

cosmetic  nature,  the  peculiar  season  was  night,  that  so  their 
effects,  assisted  by  a  peaceful  sleep,  might  be  stronger  and 
safer.  The  major  was  obliged  to  content  himself,  and  let 
his  head  be  anointed,  his  face  painted,  his  eyebrows  pen- 
cilled, and  his  lips  tipped  with  salve.  Besides  all  this,  there 
were  various  ceremonies  still  required  ;  nay,  the  very  night- 
cap was  not  to  be  put  on  immediately,  not  till  a  net,  or  even 
a  fine-leather  cap,  had  been  drawn  on  next  the  head. 

The  major  laid  himself  in  bed  with  a  sort  of  unpleasant 
feeling,  which,  however,  he  had  no  time  to  investigate  the 
nature  of ;  as  he  very  soon  fell  asleep.  But,  if  we  might 
speak  with  his  spirit,  we  should  say  he  felt  a  little  mummy- 
like,  somewhat  between  a  sick  man  and  a  man  embalmed. 
Yet  the  sweet  image  of  Hilaria,  encircled  with  the  gayest 
hopes,  soon  led  him  into  a  refreshing  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  at  the  proper  hour,  the  groom  was  ready 
in  his  place.  All  that  pertained  to  his  master's  equipment 
lay  in  wonted  order  on  the  chairs ;  and  the  major  was  just 
on  the  point  of  rising,  when  the  new  attendant  entered,  and 
strongly  protested  against  any  such  precipitation.  He  must 
rest,  he  must  wait,  if  their  enterpi'ise  were  to  prosper,  if  they 
were  to  be  rewarded  for  their  pains  and  labor.  The  major 
now  learned  that  he  had  to  rise  by  and  by,  to  take  a  slight 
breakfast,  and  then  go  into  a  bath,  which  was  already  pre- 
pared for  him.  The  regulations  were  inflexible,  they  required 
a  strict  observance  ;  and  some  hours  passed  away  under  these 
occupations. 

The  major  abridged  the  resting-time  after  his  bath,  and 
thought  to  get  his  clothes  about  him  :  for  he  was  by  nature 
expeditious,  and  at  present  he  longed  to  see  Hilaria ;  but  in 
this  point  also  his  new  servant  thwarted  him,  and  signified, 
that  in  all  cases  he  must  drop  the  thought  of  being  in  a  hurry. 
Whatever  he  did,  it  appeared,  must  be  done  leisurely  and 
pleasurably ;  but  the  time  of  dressing  was  especially  to  be 
considered  as  a  cheerful  hour  for  conversation  with  one's 
self. 

The  valet's  manner  of  proceeding  completely  agreed  with 
his  words.  But,  in  return,  the  major,  when,  on  stepping 
forward  to  the  glass,  he  saw  himself  trimmed  out  in  the 
neatest  fashion,  really  thought  that  he  was  better  dressed 
than  formerly.  Without  many  words  the  conjurer  had 
changed  the  very  uniform  into  a  newer  cut,  having  spent 
the  night  in  working  at  it.  An  apparently  so  quick  rejuve- 
nescence put  the  major  in  his  liveliest  mood  ;  so  that  he  felt 


184  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

himself  as  if  renovated,  both  without  and  within,  and  has- 
tened with  impatient  longing  to  his  friends. 

He  found  his  sister  engaged  in  looking  at  the  pedigree 
which  she  had  caused  to  be  hung  up  ;  the  conversation  last 
night  having  turned  on  some  collateral  relations,  unmarried 
persons,  or  resident  in  foreign  countries,  or  entirely  gone 
out  of  sight,  from  all  of  whom  the  baroness  and  her  brother 
had  more  or  less  hope  of  heritages  for  themselves  or  their 
families.  They  conversed  a  while  on  these  matters,  without 
mentioning  the  circumstance  that  all  their  economical  cares 
and  exertions  had  hitherto  been  solely  directed  to  their  chil- 
dren. By  Hilaria's  attachment  the  whole  of  this  prospect 
had  altered,  yet  neither  the  major  nor  his  sister  could  sum- 
mon courage  to  mention  it  further  at  this  moment. 

The  baroness  left  the  room  :  the  major  was  standing  alone 
before  this  laconic  history  of  his  family ;  Hilaria  stepped  in 
to  him ;  she  leaned  herself  on  him  in  a  kind,  childlike  way, 
looked  at  the  parchment,  and  asked  him  whom  of  all  these 
he  had  known,  and  who  of  them  were  still  left  and  living. 

The  major  began  his  delineation  with  the  oldest  of  whom 
any  dim  recollection  remained  with  him  from  childhood. 
Then  he  proceeded  farther ;  painted  the  characters  of  sev- 
eral fathers,  the  likeness  or  unlikeness  of  their  children  to 
them ;  remarked  that  the  grandfather  often  re-appeared  in 
the  grandson ;  spoke,  by  the  way,  of  the  influence  of  certain 
women,  wedded  out  of  stranger  families,  and  sometimes 
changing  the  chai-acter  of  whole  branches.  He  eulogized 
the  virtue  of  many  an  ancestor  and  relative,  nor  did  he  hide 
their  failings.  Such  as  had  brought  shame  on  their  lineage 
he  passed  in  silence.  At  length  he  reached  the  lowest  lines. 
Here  stood  his  brother,  the  chief  marshal  himself,  and  his 
sister,  and  beneath  him  his  son  with  Hilaria  at  his  side. 

"  These  two  look  each  other  straight  enough  in  the  face," 
said  the  major ;  not  adding  what  he  thought  of  the  matter 
in  his  heart. 

After  a  pause  Hilaria  answered,  in  a  meek,  small  tone, 
and  almost  with  a  sigh,  "  Yet  those,  surely,  are  not  to  blame 
who  look  upwards."  At  the  same  time  she  looked  up  to 
him  with  a  pair  of  eyes  out  of  which  her  whole  love  was 
speaking. 

"  Do  I  understand  thee  rightly?  "  said  the  major,  turning 
round  to  her. 

"  I  can  say  nothing,"  answered  she,  with  a  smile,  "  which 
you  do  not  know  already." 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  185 

"  Thon  makest  me  the  happiest  man  under  the  sun,"  cried 
he,  and  fell  at  her  feet.  "  Wilt  thou  be  mine?  " 

u  For  Heaven's  sake,  rise  !     I  am  thine  forever." 

The  baroness  entered.  Though  not  surprised,  she  rather 
hesitated.  "If  it  be  wrong,  sister,"  said  the  major,  "the 
blame  is  thine  :  if  it  be  right,  we  will  thank  thee  forever." 

The  baroness  from  youth  upwards  had  so  loved  her  brother 
that  she  preferred  him  to  all  men ;  and  perhaps  Hilaria's 
attachment  itself  had,  if  not  arisen  from  this  sisterly  par- 
tiality, at  least  been  cherished  by  it.  All  three  now  united 
in  one  love,  in  one  delight ;  and  thus  the  happiest  hours  flew 
over  them.  Yet,  at  last,  their  eyes  re-opened  to  the  world 
around  them  likewise  ;  and  this  rarely  stands  in  unison  with 
such  emotions. 

They  now  again  bethought  them  of  the  son.  For  him 
Hilaria  had  been  destined :  this  he  himself  well  knew. 
Directly  after  finishing  the  business  with  the  chief  marshal, 
the  major  had  appointed  his  son  to  expect  him  in  the  garrison, 
that  they  might  settle  every  thing  together,  and  conduct  these 
purposes  to  a  happy  issue.  But  now,  by  an  unexpected 
occurrence,  the  whole  state  of  matters  had  been  thrown  out 
of  joint ;  the  circumstances  which  before  plied  into  one 
another  so  kindly,  now  seemed  to  be  assuming  a  hostile 
aspect ;  and  it  was  not  easy  to  foresee  what  turn  the  affair 
would  take,  what  temper  would  seize  the  individuals  con- 
cerned in  it. 

Meanwhile  the  major  was  obliged  to  resolve  on  visiting 
his  son,  to  whom  he  had  already  announced  himself.  Not 
without  reluctance,  not  without  singular  forecastings,  not 
without  pain  at  even  for  a  short  time  leaving  Hilaria,  he  at 
last,  after  much  lingering,  took  the  road,  and,  leaving  groom 
and  horses  behind  him,  proceeded  with  his  cosmetic  valet, 
who  had  now  become  an  indispensable  appendage,  towards 
the  town  where  his  son  resided. 

Both  saluted  and  embraced  each  other  cordially  after  so 
long  a  separation.  They  had  much  to  communicate,  yet 
they  did  not  just  commence  with  what  lay  nearest  their 
hearts.  The  son  went  into  copious  talk  about  his  hopes  of 
speedy  advancement :  in  return  for  which  the  father  gave 
him  precise  accounts  of  what  had  been  discussed  and  deter- 
mined between  the  elder  members  of  the  family,  both  in 
regard  to  fortune  in  general,  to  the  individual  estates,  and 
every  thing  pertaining  to  them. 

The  conversation  was,  in  some  degree,  beginning  to  flag, 


186  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

when  the  son  took  heart,  and  said  to  his  father,  with  a  smile, 
"  You  treat  me  very  tenderly,  dear  father ;  and  I  thank  you 
for  it.  You  tell  me  of  properties  and  fortune,  and  mention 
not  the  terms  under  which,  at  least  in  part,  they  are  to  be 
mine  :  you  keep  back  the  name  of  Hilaria  ;  you  expect  that 
I  should  bring  it  forth,  that  I  should  express  my  desire  to  be 
speedily  united  with  that  amiable  maiden." 

At  these  words  the  major  felt  in  great  perplexity ;  but  a? 
partly  by  nature,  partly  by  old  habit,  it  was  his  way  to  col- 
lect the  purpose  of  the  man  he  had  to  treat  with  before  stat- 
ing his  own,  he  now  said  nothing,  and  looked  at  the,  son 
with  an  ambiguous  smile.  "  You  will  not  guess,  father, 
what  I  have  to  say,"  continued  the  lieutenant:  "I  will 
speak  it  out  briefly,  and  once  for  all.  I  can  depend  on  your 
affection,  which,  amid  such  manifold  care  for  me,  has  had 
due  regard  for  my  true  happiness  as  well  as  my  fortune. 
Some  time  or  other  it  must  be  said :  be  it  said,  then,  even 
now,  Hilaria  cannot  make  me  happy !  I  think  of  Hilaria  as 
of  a  lovely  relative,  towards  whom  I  would  live  all  my  days 
with  the  friendliest  feelings  ;  but  another  has  awakened  my 
affection,  another  has  found  my  heart.  The  attachment  is 
irresistible  :  you  will  not  make  me  miserable." 

Not  without  effort  did  the  major  conceal  the  cheerfulness 
which  was  rising  over  his  face,  and,  in  a  tone  of  mild  seri- 
ousness, inquire  of  the  son,  Who  the  person  was  that  had 
so  entirely  subdued  him? —  "You  must  see  her  yourself, 
father,"  said  the  other ;  "  for  she  can  as  little  be  described 
as  comprehended.  I  have  but  one  fear,  —  that  you  yourself 
will  be  led  away  by  her,  like  every  one  that  approaches  her. 
By  Heaven,  it  will  be  so ;  and  I  shall  see  you  the  rival  of 
your  son !  " 

"  But  who  is  she?  "  inquired  the  major.  "If  it  is  not  in 
thy  power  to  delineate  her  personal  characteristics,  tell  me,  at 
least,  of  her  outward  circumstances  :  these,  at  least,  may  be 
described." 

"Well,  then,  father,"  replied  the  son;  "and  yet  these 
outward  circumstances,  too,  would  be  different  in  a  different 
person,  would  act  otherwise  on  another.  She  is  a  young 
widow,  heiress  of  an  old,  rich  man  lately  deceased ;  inde- 
pendent, and  well  meriting  to  be  so  ;  acquainted  with  many, 
loved  by  just  as  many,  courted  by  just  as  many ;  yet,  if  I 
mistake  not  very  greatly,  in  her  heart  wholly  mine." 

With  joyful  vivacity,  as  the  father  kept  silence,  and  gave 
no  sign  of  disapproval,  the  son  proceeded  to  describe  the 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  187 

conduct  of  the  fair  widow  towards  him  ;  told  of  her  all-con- 
quering grace  ;  recounted  one  by  one  her  tender  expressions 
of  favor ;  in  which  the  father  truly  could  see  nothing  but 
the  light  friendliness  of  a  universally  courted  woman,  who, 
among  so  many,  may  indeed  prefer  some  one,  yet  without 
on  that  account  entirely  deciding  for  him.  Under  any  other 
circumstances  he  would  doubtless  have  endeavored  to  warn 
a  son,  nay,  even  a  friend,  of  the  self-deception  which  might 
probably  enough  be  at  work  here ;  but,  in  the  present  case, 
he  himself  was  so  anxious  for  his  son's  being  right,  for  the 
fair  widow's  really  loving  him,  and  as  soon  as  possible 
deciding  in  his  favor,  that  he  either  felt  no  scruple  of  this 
sort,  or  banished  any  such  from  his  mind,  perhaps  even  only 
concealed  it. 

u  Thou  placest  me  in  great  perplexitjV  began  the  father, 
after  some  pause.  "  The  whole  arrangement  between  the  sur- 
viving members  of  our  family  depends  on  the  understanding 
that  thou  wed  Hilaria.  If  she  wed  a  stranger,  the  whole 
fair,  careful  combination  of  a  fine  fortune  falls  to  the  ground 
again ;  and  thou  thyself  art  not  too  well  provided  for. 
There  is  certainly  another  way  still,  but  one  which  sounds 
rather  strange,  and  by  which  thou  wouldst  gain  very  little : 
I,  in  my  old  days,  might  wed  Hilaria,  —  a  plan  which  could 
hardly  give  thee  any  very  high  satisfaction." 

' '  The  highest  in  the  world  ! ' '  exclaimed  the  lieutenant ; 
"  for  who  can  feel  a  true  attachment,  who  can  enjoy  or 
anticipate  the  happiness  of  love,  without  wishing  every 
friend,  every  one  whom  he  values,  the  like  supreme  felicity? 
You  are  not  old,  father ;  and  how  lovely  is  Hilaria !  Even 
the  transient  thought  of  offering  her  your  hand  bespeaks 
a  youthful  heart,  an  unimpaired  spirit.  Let  us  take  up 
this  thought,  this  project,  on  the  spot,  and  consider  and 
investigate  it  thoroughly.  My  own  happiness  would  be  com- 
plete if  I  knew  you  happy :  I  could  then  rejoice  in  good 
earnest,  that  the  care  you  had  bestowed  on  my  destiny  was 
repaid  on  your  own  by  so  fair  and  high  a  recompense.  I 
can  now  with  confidence  and  frankness,  and  true  openness 
of  heart,  conduct  you  to  my  fair  one.  You  will  approve  of 
my  feelings,  since  you  yourself  feel :  you  will  not  impede 
the  happiness  of  your  son,  since  you  are  advancing  to  your 
own  happiness." 

With  these  and  other  importunate  words  the  lieutenant 
repressed  many  a  scruple  which  his  father  was  for  introdu- 
cing, left  him  no  time  to  calculate,  but  hurried  off  with  him 


188  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

to  the  fair  widow,  whom  they  found  in  a  commodious  and 
splendid  house,  with  a  select  rather  than  numerous  party,  all 
engaged  in  cheerful  conversation.  She  was  one  of  those 
female  souls  whom  no  man  can  escape.  With  incredible  ad- 
dress she  contrived  to  make  our  major  the  hero  of  this  even- 
ing. The  rest  of  the  party  seemed  to  be  her  family :  the 
major  alone  was  her  guest.  His  circumstances  she  already 
knew  very  well ;  yet  she  had  the  skill  to  ask  about  them,  as  if 
she  were  wishing,  now  at  last,  to  get  right  information  on  the 
subject  from  himself :  and  so,  likewise,  every  individual  of 
the  company  was  made  to  show  some  interest  in  the  stranger. 
One  must  have  known  his  brother,  a  second  his  estates,  a 
third  something  else  concerned  with  him  ;  so  that  the  major, 
in  the  midst  of  a  lively  conversation,  still  felt  himself  to  be 
the  centre.  Moreover,  he  was  sitting  next  the  fair  one  ;  her 
eyes  were  on  him,  her  smile  was  directed  to  him :  in  a  word, 
he  felt  himself  so  comfortable,  that  he  almost  forgot  the 
cause  which  had  brought  him.  She  herself  scarcely  ever 
mentioned  his  son,  though  the  young  man  took  a  keen  share 
in  the  conversation :  it  seemed  as  if,  in  her  eyes,  he,  like  all 
the  rest,  was  present  only  on  his  father's  account. 

The  guests  strolled  up  and  down  the  rooms,  and  grouped 
themselves  into  accidental  knots.  The  lieutenant  stepped 
up  to  his  fair  one,  and  asked,  "  What  say  you  to  my 
father?" 

With  a  smile  she  replied,  ' '  Methinks  you  might  well  take 
him  as  a  pattern.  Do  but  look  how  neatly  he  is  dressed ! 
If  his  manner  and  bearing  are  not  better  than  his  gentle 
son's!"  And  thus  she  continued  to  cry  up  and  praise  the 
father  at  the  son's  expense ;  awakening,  by  this  means,  a 
very  mixed  feeling  of  contentment  and  jealousy  in  the 
young  man's  heart. 

Erelong  the  lieutenant  carne  in  contact  with  his  father, 
and  recounted  all  this  to  him.  It  made  the  major's  manner 
to  his  fair  hostess  so  much  the  more  friendly ;  and  she,  on 
her  side,  began  to  treat  him  on  a  more  lively  and  trustful 
footing.  In  short,  we  may  say,  that,  when  the  company 
broke  up,  the  major,  as  well  as  the  rest,  already  belonged 
to  her  and  to  her  circle. 

A  heavy  rain  prevented  the  guests  from  returning  home 
as  they  had  come.  Some  coaches  drove  up,  into  which  the 
walkers  arranged  themselves :  only  the  lieutenant,  under 
the  pretext  that  the  carriage  was  already  too  crowded,  let 
his  father  drive  away,  and  staid  behind. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  189 

The  major,  on  entering  his  apartment,  felt  actually  con- 
fused and  giddy  in  mind,  uncertain  of  himself ;  as  is  the 
case  with  us  on  passing  rapidly  from  one  state  to  the  oppo- 
site. The  land  still  seems  in  motion  to  a  man  who  steps 
from  shipboard,  and  the  light  still  quivers  in  the  eye  of 
him  who  comes  at  once  into  darkness.  So  did  the  major 
still  feel  himself  encircled  with  the  presence  of  that  fair 
being.  He  wished  still  to  see,  to  hear  her,  again  to  see, 
again  to  hear  her :  and,  after  some  consideration,  he  forgave 
his  son  ;  nay,  he  thought  him  happy  that  he  might  pretend 
to  the  appropriation  of  such  loveliness. 

From  these  feelings  he  was  roused  by  the  lieutenant, 
who,  with  lively  expressions  of  rapture,  rushed  into  the 
room,  embraced  his  father,  and  exclaimed,  "  I  am  the  hap- 
piest man  in  the  world  ! ' '  After  several  more  of  such  pre- 
liminary phrases,  the  two  at  last  came  to  an  explanation. 
The  father  remarked,  that  the  fair  lady  in  conversing  with 
him  had  not  mentioned  the  son,  or  hinted  at  him  by  a  single 
syllable.  "That  is  just  her  soft,  silent,  half-concealing, 
half-discovering  way,  by  which  you  become  certain  of  your 
wishes,  and  yet  can  never  altogether  get  rid  of  doubt.  So 
was  she  wont  to  treat  me  hitherto ;  but  your  presence, 
father,  has  done  wonders.  I  confess  it,  I  staid  behind, 
that  I  might  see  her  one  moment  longer.  I  found  her  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  in  her  still  shining  rooms ;  for  I  know  it  is 
her  custom,  when  the  company  is  gone,  no  light  must  be 
extinguished.  She  walks  alone  up  and  down  in  her  magic 
halls,  when  the  spirits  are  dismissed  which  she  had  sum- 
moned thither.  She  accepted  the  pretext  under  cover  of 
which  I  came  back.  She  spoke  with  kind  grace,  though  of 
indifferent  matters.  "We  walked  to  and  fro  through  the 
open  doors,  along  the  whole  suite  of  chambers.  We  had 
wandered  several  times  to  the  end,  into  the  little  cabinet, 
which  is  lighted  only  by  a  dim  lamp.  If  she  was  beauti- 
ful while  moving  under  the  blaze  of  the  lustres,  she  was 
infinitely  more  so  when  illuminated  by  the  soft  gleam  of  the 
lamp.  We  had  again  reached  the  cabinet ;  and,  in  turning, 
we  paused  for  an  instant.  I  know  not  what  it  was  that 
forced  this  audacity  on  me :  I  know  not  how  I  could  ven- 
ture, in  the  midst  of  the  most  ordinary  conversation,  all  at 
once  to  seize  her  hand,  to  kiss  that  soft  hand,  and  to  press 
it  to  my  heart.  It  was  not  drawn  away.  '  Heavenly  crea- 
ture !  '  cried  I,  '  conceal  thyself  no  longer  from  me.  If  in 
this  fair  heart  dwells  favor  for  the  happy  man  who  stands 


190  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

before  thee,  disclose  it,  confess  it !  The  present  is  the  best, 
the  highest  time.  Banish  me,  or  take  me  to  thy  arms  ! ' 

"•  I  know  not  what  all  I  said,  what  I  looked  and  expressed. 
She  withdrew  not,  she  resisted  not,  she  answered  not.  I 
ventured  to  clasp  her  in  my  arms,  to  ask  her  if  she  would 
be  mine.  I  kissed  her  with  rapture  ;  she  pushed  me  away  : 
'  Well,  yes,  then :  yes ! '  or  some  such  words,  said  she,  in 
a  faint  tone,  as  if  embarrassed.  I  retired,  and  cried,  '  I  will 
send  my  father:  he  shall  speak  for  me.'  —  'Not  a  word  to 
him  of  this ! '  replied  she,  following  me  some  steps.  '  Go 
away  :  forget  what  has  happened.' ' 

What  the  major  thought  we  shall  not  attempt  to  unfold. 
He  said,  however,  to  his  son,  "  What  is  to  be  done  now, 
thinkest  thou?  To  my  mind  the  affair  is,  by  accident,  so 
well  introduced,  that  we  may  now  go  to  work  a  little  more 
formally  ;  that  perhaps  it  were  well  if  I  called  there  to-mor- 
row, and  proposed  in  thy  name." 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  no,  father!"  cried  the  son:  "it 
would  spoil  the  whole  business.  That  look,  that  tone,  must 
be  disturbed  and  deranged  by  no  formality.  It  is  enough, 
father,  that  your  presence  accelerates  this  union  without 
your  uttering  a  word  on  the  subject.  Yes,  it  is  to  you  that 
I  owe  my  happiness !  The  respect  which  my  loved  one 
entertains  for  you  has  conquered  every  scruple,  and  never 
would  your  son  have  found  so  good  a  moment  had  not  his 
father  prepared  it  for  him." 

These  and  such  disclosures  occupied  them  till  far  in  the 
night.  They  mutually  settled  their  plans  :  the  major,  simply 
for  form's  sake,  was  to  make  a  parting  call,  and  then  set 
out  to  arrange  his  marriage  with  Hilaria ;  the  son  was  to 
forward  and  accelerate  his,  as  he  should  find  it  possible. 


Hersilia's  Postscript. 

Here  I  break  off,  partly  because  I  can  write  no  more  at 
present,  but  partly  also  to  fix  a  thorn  in  your  heart.  Now, 
answer  the  question  for  yourself :  How  strangely,  from  all 
that  you  have  read,  must  matters  stand  with  these  ladies  at 
present !  Till  now  they  had  no  mutual  relation  to  each 
other :  they  were  strangers,  though  each  seemed  to  have 
the  prospect  of  a  marriage  which  was  to  approximate  them. 
And  now  we  find  them  in  company,  but  by  themselves, 
without  male  attendance,  and  wandering  over  the  world. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  191 

What  can  have  passed,  what  can  be  to  follow?  You,  my 
worthy  sir,  will  doubtless  get  quit  of  the  difficulty  by  mourn- 
fully exclaiming  to  yourself,  "These,  also,  are  renunci- 
ants !  "  And  here  you  are  perfectly  right:  but  expectants 
too?  This  I  durst  not  discover,  even  if  I  knew  it. 

To  show  you  the  way  how  this  amiable  pair  may  be  met 
with  on  your  wandering,  I  adopt  a  singular  expedient.  You 
herewith  receive  a  little  clipping  of  a  map :  when  you  lay 
this  in  its  place  on  the  full  map  of  the  country,  the  mag- 
netic needle  painted  here  will  point  with  its  barb  to  the  spot 
whither  the  desirable  are  moving.  This  riddle  is  not  so 
very  hard  to  read  :  but  I  could  wish,  that,  from  time  to  time, 
you  would  do  the  like  for  us,  and  send  a  little  snip  of  chart 
over  hither ;  we  should  then,  in  some  measure,  understand 
to  what  quarter  our  thoughts  were  to  be  directed :  and  how 
glad  should  we  be  if  the  needle  were  at  last  attracted  by 
ourselves.  May  all  good  be  given  you,  and  all  errors  for- 
given ! 

It  is  said  of  women,  that  they  cannot  send  away  a  letter 
without  tacking  postscripts  to  the  end  of  it.  Whatever 
inferences  you  ma}'  draw  from  the  fact,  I  cannot  deny  that 
this  is  my  second  postscript,  and  the  place,  after  all,  where 
I  am  to  tell  you  the  flower  of  the  whole  matter.  This  arrow- 
shaft,  on  the  little  patch  of  map,  Hilaria  herself  was  at  the 
pains  to  draw  and  to  decorate  with  such  dainty  plumage : 
the  sharp  point,  however,  was  the  fair  widow's  work.  Have 
a  care  that  it  do  not  scratch,  or  perhaps  pierce  you.  Our 
bargain  is,  that  whenever  you  meet,  be  this  where  it  may, 
you  are  forthwith  to  present  the  small  shred  of  paper,  and 
so  be  the  sooner  and  more  heartily  admitted  into  trust. 


A  WORD  FROM  THE  EDITOR. 

THAT  a  certain  deficiency,  perhaps  discernible  in  the  parts, 
certainly  discernible  here  and  there  in  the  whole,  can- 
not, henceforth,  be  avoided,  we  ourselves  take  courage  to 
forewarn  the  reader,  without  fearing  thereby  to  thwart  his 
enjoyment.  In  the  present  task,  undertaken  truly  with  fore- 
thought and  good  heart,  we  still  meet  with  all  the  inconven- 
iences which  have  delayed  the  publication  of  these  little 
volumes  for  twenty  years.  This  period  has  altered  nothing 
for  the  better.  We  still  find  ourselves  in  more  than  one  way 


192  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

impeded,  at  this  or  that  place  threatened  with  one  obstruc- 
tion or  another.  For  we  have  to  solve  the  uncertain  problem 
of  selecting  from  those  most  multifarious  papers  what  is 
worthiest  and  most  important,  so  that  it  be  grateful  to  think- 
ing and  cultivated  minds,  and  refresh  and  forward  them  in 
many  a  province  of  life.  Now,  here  are  the  journals,  more 
or  less  complete,  lying  before  us ;  sometimes  communicable 
without  scruple  ;  sometimes,  again  by  reason  of  their  unim- 
portant, and  likewise  of  their  too  important  contents,  seem- 
ingly unfit  for  insertion. 

There  are  not  even  wanting  sections  devoted  to  the  actual 
world,  on  statistic,  technical,  and  other  practical  external 
subjects.  To  cut  these  off  as  incongruous,  we  do  not  deter- 
mine without  reluctance ;  as  life  and  inclination,  knowledge 
and  passion,  strangely  combining  together,  go  on  here  in  the 
straitest  union. 

Then  we  come  on  sketches  written  with  clear  views  and 
for  glorious  objects,  but  not  so  consequent  and  deep  search- 
ing that  we  can  fully  approve  of  them,  or  suppose,  that,  in 
this  new  and  so  far  advanced  time,  they  could  be  readable 
and  influential. 

So  likewise  we  fall  in  with  little  anecdotes,  destitute  of  con- 
nection, difficult  to  arrange  under  heads,  some  of  them,  when 
closely  examined,  not  altogether  unobjectionable.  Here  and 
there  we  discover  more  complete  narratives,  several  of  which, 
though  already  known  to  the  world,  nevertheless  demand  a 
place  here,  and  at  the  same  time  require  exposition  and  con- 
clusion. Of  poems,  also,  there  is  no  want ;  and  yet  it  is  not 
always  easy,  not  always  possible,  to  decide  where  they  should 
be  introduced  with  best  regard  to  the  preserving  and  assist- 
ing of  their  true  tone,  which  is  but  too  easily  disturbed  and 
overturned.  If  we  are  not,  therefore,  as  we  have  too  often 
done  in  by-gone  years,  again  to  stop  in  the  middle  of  this 
business,  nothing  will  remain  for  us  but  to  impart  what  we 
possess,  to  give  out  what  has  been  preserved.  Some  chap- 
ters, accordingly,  the  completion  of  which  might  have  been 
desirable,  we  now  offer  in  their  first  hurried  form,  that  so 
the  reader  may  not  only  feel  the  existence  of  a  want  here, 
but  also  be  informed  what  this  want  is,  and  complete  in  his 
own  mind  whatever,  partly  from  the  nature  of  the  object, 
partly  from  the  intervening  circumstances,  cannot  be  pre- 
sented to  him  perfectly  completed  in  itself,  or  furnished 
with  all  its  requisite  accompaniments. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  103 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  proposed  riddle  raised  some  scruples  in  Wilhelm's 
mind ;  yet  erelong  he  began  to  feel  a  still  attraction  in  the 
matter,  an  impulse  of  longing  to  reach  that  appointed  line, 
and  follow  its  direction :  as,  indeed,  we  are  wont  to  seize 
with  eagerness  any  specific  object  that  excites  our  imagina- 
tion, our  active  faculties,  and  to  wish  that  we  might  accom- 
plish it  and  partake  of  it. 

A  child  that,  in  asking  alms  of  us,  puts  into  our  hand  a 
card  with  five  lottery  numbers  written  on  it,  we  do  not  lightly 
turn  away  unserved ;  and  it  depends  on  the  moment,  es- 
pecially if  it  be  shortly  before  the  drawing,  whether  we  shall 
not,  with  accidentally  stimulated  hope,  quite  against  our 
usual  custom,  stake  heavy  shares  upon  these  very  num- 
bers. 

The  wanderer  now  tried  on  a  large  map  the  little  fragment 
which  had  been  sent  him,  and  stood  surprised,  amazed,  af- 
frighted, as  he  saw  the  needle  pointing  straight  to  Mignon's 
native  place,  to  the  houses  where  she  had  lived.  What  his 
peculiar  feelings  were,  we  do  not  find  declared  ;  but  whoever 
can  bring  back  to  memory. the  end  of  the  Apprenticeship,  will 
in  his  own  heart  and  mind,  without  difficulty,  call  forth  the 
like. 

The  chief  cause,  however,  why  we  meet  with  scantier  rec- 
ords of  this  excursion  than  we  could  have  wished,  may 
probably  be  this :  that  Wilhelm  chanced  to  fall  in  with  a 
young,  lively  companion  of  his  journey,  by  means  of  whom 
it  became  easy  to  retain  for  himself  and  his  friends  a  vivid 
and  strong  remembrance  of  this  pious  pilgrimage  without 
any  aid  of  writing.  Unexpectedly  he  finds  himself  beside  :i 
painter, —one  of  that  class  of  persons  whom  we  often  see 
wandering  about  the  world,  and  still  oftener  figuring  in  ro- 
mances and  dramas,  but,  in  this  case,  an  individual  who 
showed  himself  at  once  to  be  really  a  distinguished  artist. 
The  two  very  soon  got  acquainted,  mutually  communicated 
their  desires,  projects,  purposes.  And  new  it  appears  that 
this  skilful  artist,  who  delights  in  painting  aquatical  land-* 
scapes,  and  can  decorate  his  pieces  with  rich,  well-imagined, 
well-executed  additions  and  accompaniments,  has  been  pas- 
sionately attracted  by  Mignon's  form,  destiny,  and  being. 
He  has  often  painted  her  already,  and  is  now  going  forth  to 
copy  from  nature  the  scenes  where  she  passed  her  early 


294  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

years ;  amid  these  to  represent  the  dear  child  in  happy  and 
unhappy  circumstances  and  moments,  and  thus  to  make  her 
image,  which  lives  in  all  tender  hearts,  present  also  to  the 
sense  of  the  eye. 

The  friends  soon  reach  the  Lago  Maggiore :  Wilhelm  en- 
deavors by  degrees  to  find  out  the  places  indicated.  Rural 
palaces,  spacious  monasteries,  ferries  and  bays,  capes  and 
landings,  are  visited  ;  nor  are  the  dwellings  of  courageous 
and  kind-hearted  fishermen  forgotten,  or  the  cheerfully  built 
villages  along  the  shore,  or  the  gay  mansions  on  the  neigh- 
boring heights.  All  this  the  artist  can  seize,  to  all  of  it 
communicate,  by  light  and  coloring,  the  feeling  suitable  for 
each  scene ;  so  that  Wilhelm  passes  his  days  and  his  hours 
in  heart-searching  emotion. 

In  several  of  the  leaves  stood  Mignon  represented  on  the 
foreground,  as  she  -had  looked  and  lived :  Wilhelm  striving 
by  correct  description  to  assist  the  happy  imagination  of  his 
friend,  and  reduce  these  general  conceptions  within  the 
stricter  limits  of  individuality.  , 

And  thus  you  might  see  the  boy-girl  set  forth  in  various 
attitudes  and  manifold  expression.  Beneath  the  lofty  portal 
of  the  splendid  country-house  she  is  standing,  thoughtfully 
contemplating  the  marble  statues  in  the  hall.  Here  she  rocks 
herself,  plashing  to  and  fro  among  the  waters,  in  the  fastened 
boat:  there  she  climbs  the  mast,  and  shows  herself  as  a 
fearless  sailor. 

But  distinguished  beyond  all  the  other  pictures  was  one 
which  the  artist,  on  his  journey  hither,  and  prior  to  his  meet- 
ing with  Wilhelm,  had  combined  and  painted  with  all  its 
characteristic  features.  In  the  heart  of  the  rude  mountains 
shines  the  graceful  seeming-boy,  encircled  with  toppling 
cliffs,  besprayed  with  cataracts,  in  the  middle  of  a  motley 
horde.  Never,  perhaps,  was  a  grim,  precipitous,  primeval 
mountain-pass  more  beautifully  or  expressively  relieved  with 
living  figures.  The  part}7- colored,  gypsy-looking  group,  at 
once  rude  and  fantastic,  strange  and  common,  too  loose  to 
cause  fear,  too  singular  to  awaken  confidence.  Stout  beasts 
of  bui'den  are  bearing  along,  now  over  paths  made  of  trees, 
now  down  by  steps  hewn  in  the  rock,  a  tawdry,  chaotic  heap 
of  luggage,  round  which  all  the  instruments  of  a  deafening 
music  hang  dangling  to  and  fro,  to  affright  the  ear  from  time 
to  time  with  rude  tones.  Amid  all  this  the  lovely  child,  self- 
collected  without  defiance,  indignant  without  resistance,  led, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  195 

but  not  dragged.  Who  would  not  have  looked  with  pleasure 
at  this  singular  and  impressive  picture?  Given  in  strong 
characters,  frowned  the  stern  obstruction  of  these  rock- 
masses,  riven  asunder  by  gloomy  chasms,  towered  up  to- 
gether, threatening  to  hinder  all  outgate,  had  not  a  bold 
bridge  betokened  the  possibility  of  again  coming  into  union 
with  the  rest  of  the  world.  Nor  had  the  artist,  with  his 
quick  feeling  of  fictitious  truth,  forgot  to  indicate  the  en- 
trance of  a  cave,  which  you  might  equally  regard  as  the 
natural  laboratory  of  huge  crystals,  or  as  the  abode  of  a 
fabulously  frightful  brood  of  dragons. 

Not  without  a  holy  fear  did  our  friends  visit  the  marchese's 
palace.  The  old  man  was  still  absent  on  his  travels  ;  but,  in 
this  circle  also,  the  two  wanderers,  knowing  well  how  to  apply 
and  conduct  themselves,  both  towards  spiritual  and  temporal 
authorities,  were  kindly  received  and  entertained. 

The  absence  of  the  owner  also  was  to  Wilhelm  very  pleas- 
ant ;  for  although  he  could  have  wished  to  see  the  worthy 
gentleman,  and  would  have  heartily  saluted  him,  he  felt 
afraid  of  the  marchese's  thankful  generosity,  and  of  any 
forced  recompense  of  that  true,  loving  conduct  for  which  he 
had  already  obtained  the  fairest  reward. 

And  thus  our  friends  went  floating  in  gay  boats  from  shore 
to  shore,  cruising  the  lake  in  every  direction.  It  was  the 
fairest  season  of  the  year :  and  they  missed  neither  sunrise 
nor  sunset,  nor  any  of  the  thousand  shadings  which  the  heav 
enly  light  first  bounteously  dispenses  over  its  own  firmament, 
and  from  thence  over  lake  and  land ;  not  appearing  itself  in 
its  perfect  glory  till  imaged  back  from  the  waters. 

A  luxuriant  vegetable  world,  planted  by  Nature,  watched 
over  and  forwarded  by  Art,  on  every  side  surrounded  them. 
The  first  chestnut  forests  they  had  already  greeted  with  wel- 
come ;  and  now  they  could  not  restrain  a  mournful  smile,  as, 
lying  under  the  shade  of  cypresses,  they  saw  the  laurel 
mounting  up,  the  pomegranates  reddening,  orange  and  citron 
trees  unfolding  themselves  in  blossoms,  and  fruit  at  the 
same  time  glowing  forth  from  the  dark  foliage. 

Through  means  of  his  vivid  associate,  Wilhelm  had  an- 
other enjoyment  prepared  for  him.  Our  old  friend  had  not 
been  favored  by  Nature  with  the  eye  of  a  painter.  Suscep- 
tible of  visual  beauty  only  in  the  human  form,  he  now  felt, 
that  by  the  presence  of  a  companion,  alike  disposed,  but 
trained  to  quite  different  enjoyments  and  activities,  the  sur- 
rounding world  also  was  opened  to  his  sight. 


196  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

By  viewing,  under  conversational  direction,  the  changing 
glories  of  the  region,  and  still  more  by  concentrated  imita- 
tion, his  eyes  were  opened,  and  his  mind  freed  from  all  its 
once  obstinate  doubts.  Hitherto  all  copies  of  Italian  scenery 
had  seemed  to  him  suspicious :  the  sky,  he  thought,  was  too 
blue ;  the  violet  tone  of  those  charming  distances  was  lovely, 
but  untrue ;  and  the  abundant,  fresh  green  too  bright  and 
gay ;  but  now  he  united  in  his  inmost  perceptions  with  his 
new  friend,  and  learned,  susceptible  as  he  was,  to  look  at 
the  earth  with  that  friend's  eyes  :  and,  while  Nature  unfolded 
the  open  secret  of  her  beauty,  he  could  not  but  feel  an 
irresistible  attraction  towards  Art  as  towards  her  most  fit 
expositor. 

But  his  pictorial  friend  quite  unexpectedly  anticipated  his 
wishes  in  another  point.  The  artist  had  already  many  times 
started  some  gay  song,  and  thus,  in  hours  of  rest,  delight- 
fully enlivened  and  accompanied  their  movement  when  out 
in  long  voyages  over  the  water.  But  now  it  happened,  that, 
in  one  of  the  palaces  they  were  visiting,  he  found  a  curious, 
peculiar  stringed  instrument,  —  a  lute  of  small  size,  strong, 
well  toned,  convenient,  and  portable :  he  soon  contrived  to 
tune  it,  and  then  handled  the  strings  so  pleasantly,  and  so 
well  entertained  those  about  him,  that,  like  a  new  Orpheus, 
he  subdued  by  soft  harmonies  the  usually  rigorous  and  dry 
castellan,  and  kindly  constrained  him  to  lend  the  instrument 
for  a  time,  under  the  condition,  that,  before  departing,  the 
singer  should  faithfully  return  it,  and,  in  the  interim,  should 
come  back  some  Sunday  or  holiday,  and  again  gratify  them 
by  his  music. 

Quite  another  spirit  now  enlivened  lake  and  shore :  boat 
and  skiff  strove  which  should  be  nearest  our  friends ;  even 
freight  and  market  barges  lingered  in  their  neighborhood  ; 
rows  of  people  on  the  beach  followed  their  course ;  when 
landing  they  were  encircled  by  a  gay-minded  throng ;  when 
departing  each  blessed  them  with  a  heart  contented,  yet  full 
of  longing. 

And  now,  at  last,  to  any  third  party  who  had  watched  our 
friends,  it  must  have  been  apparent  enough  that  their  mission 
was,  in  fact,  accomplished :  all  scenes  and  localities  referring 
to  Mignon  had  been,  not  only  sketched,  but  partly  brought 
into  light,  shade,  and  color,  partly  in  warm,  mid-day  hours, 
finished  with  the  utmost  fidelity.  In  effecting  this  the}7  had 
shifted  from  place  to  place  in  a  peculiar  way,  as  "Wilhelm's 
vow  frequently  impeded  them :  this,  however,  they  had  now 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  197 

and  then  contrived  to  evade  by  explaining  it  as  valid  only  on 
laud,  and  on  water  not  applicable. 

Indeed,  Wilhelm  himself  now  felt  that  their  special  pur- 
pose was  attained  ;  yet  he  could  not  deny  that  the  wish  to 
see  Hilaria  and  the  fair  widow  must  also  be  satisfied  if  he 
wished  to  leave  this  country  with  a  free  mind.  His  friend,  to 
whom  he  had  imparted  their  story,  was  no  less  curious,  and 
already  prided  himself  in  the  thought,  that,  in  one  of  his 
paintings,  there  was  a  vacant  space,  which,  as  an  artist,  he 
might  decorate  with  the  forms  of  these  gentle  persons. 

Accordingly,  they  now  cruised  to  and  fro,  watching  the 
points  where  strangers  are  wont  first  to  enter  this  paradise. 
Their  hope  of  meeting  friends  here  had  already  been  made 
known  to  the  boatmen ;  and  the  search  had  not  lasted  long 
when  there  came  in  sight  a  splendid  barge,  which  they  in- 
stantly made  chase  of,  and  forbore  not  passionately  to 
grapple  with  on  reaching  it.  The  dames,  in  some  degree 
alarmed  at  this  movement,  soon  recovered  their  composure 
as  Wilhelm  produced  his  little  piece  of  chart ;  and  the  two, 
without  hesitation,  recognized  the  arrow  which  themselves 
had  drawn  on  it.  The  friends  were  then  kindly  invited  to 
come  on  board  the  ladies'  barge,  which  they  did  without  an 
instant's  delay. 

And  now  let  us  figure  to  ourselves  these  four,  as  they  sit 
together  in  the  daintiest  apartment,  the  most  blissful  world 
lying  round  them,  looking  in  each  other's  faces,  fanned  by 
soft  airs,  rocked  on  glittering  waves.  Imagine  the  female 
pair,  as  we  lately  saw  them  described  ;  the  male,  as  they 
have  together  for  weeks  been  leading  a  wayfaring  life  ;  and 
after  a  little  reflection  we  behold  them  all  in  the  most  delight- 
ful, but  also  the  most  dangerous  situation. 

For  the  three  who  have  before,  willingly  or  unwillingly, 
ranked  themselves  in  the  number  of  renunciants,  we  have; 
not  the  worst  to  fear:  the  fourth,  however,  may,  probably 
enough,  too  soon  see  himself  admitted  into  that  order,  like 
the  others. 

After  crossing  the  lake  several  times,  and  pointing  out  the 
most  interesting  spots,  both  on  the  shore  and  the  islands, 
our  two  wanderers  conducted  their  fair  friends  to  the  place 
they  were  to  pass  the  night  in  ;  where  a  dexterous  guide, 
selected  for  this  voyage,  had  taken  care  to  provide  all  pos- 
sible conveniences.  Wilhelm's  vow  was  now  a  harsh  but 
suitable  master  of  the  ceremonies  ;  for  he  and  his  compan- 
ion had  already  passed  three  days  in  this  very  station,  and 


198  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

exhausted  all  that  was  remarkable  in  the  environs.  The 
artist,  not  restrained  by  any  vow,  begged  permission  to 
attend  the  dames  on  shore  :  this,  however,  they  declined, 
and  so  the  party  separated  at  some  distance  from  the  harbor. 

Scarcely  had  the  singer  stepped  into  his  skiff,  which  hastily 
drew  back  from  the  beach,  when  he  seized  his  lute,  and  grace- 
fully began  raising  that  strangely  plaintive  song  which  the* 
Venetian  gondoliers  send  forth  in  clear  melody  from  land  to 
sea,  and  from  sea  to  land.  Expert  enough  in  this  feat, 
which  in  the  present  instance  proceeded  with  peculiar  ten- 
derness and  expression,  he  strengthened  his  voice  in  propor- 
tion to  the  increasing  distance ;  so  that  on  the  shore  you 
would  have  thought  you  heard  him  still  singing  in  the  same 
place.  He  at  last  laid  his  lute  aside,  trusting  to  his  voice 
alone,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  observe  that  the  dames, 
instead  of  retiring  into  their  house,  were  pleased  to  linger  on 
the  shore.  He  felt  so  inspired  that  he  could  not  cease,  not 
even  when  night  and  remoteness  had  withdrawn  every  thing 
from  view ;  till  at  last  his  calmer  friend  reminded  him,  that, 
if  darkness  did  favor  his  tones,  the  skiff  had  already  long 
passed  the  limits  within  which  these  could  take  effect. 

According  to  promise,  the  two  parties  again  met  next  day 
on  the  open  lake.  Flying  along,  they  formed  acquaintance 
with  the  lovely  series  of  prospects,  now  standing  forth  in 
separate  distinction,  then  gathering  into  rows,  and  seen 
behind  each  other,  and  at  last  fading  away,  as  the  higher 
eclipsed  the  lower ;  all  which,  repeating  itself  in  the  waters, 
affords  in  such  excursions  the  most  varied  entertainment. 
Nor,  in  the  course  of  these  sights,  did  the  copies  of  them, 
from  our  artist's  portfolio,  fail  to  awaken  thoughts  and  an- 
ticipations of  what,  in  the  present  hour,  was  not  imparted. 
For  all  such  matters  the  still  Hilaria  seemed  to  have  a  free 
and  fair  feeling. 

But,  towards  noon,  singularity  again  came  into  play :  the 
ladies  landed  alone  ;  the  men  cruised  before  the  harbor.  And 
now  the  singer  endeavored  to  accommodate  his  music  to  a 
shorter  distance,  where  not  only  the  general,  soft,  and  quickly 
warbling  tone  of  desire,  but  likewise  a  certain  gay,  graceful 
importunity  might  'be  expected  to  tell.  And  here  now  and 
then  some  one  or  other  of  the  songs,  for  which  we  stand  in- 
debted to  our  friends  in  the  "  Apprenticeship,"  would  come 
hovering  over  his  strings,  over  his  lips  ;  but  out  of  well- 
meant  regard  to  the  feelings  of  his  hearers,  as  well  as  to  his 
own,  he  restrained  himself  in  this  particular,  and  roved  at 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  199 

largo  in  foreign  images  and  emotions,  whereby  his  perform- 
ance gained  in  effect,  and  reached  the  ear  with  so  much  the 
more  insinuating  blandishment.  The  two  friends,  blockad- 
ing the  harbor  in  this  way,  would  not  have  recollected  the 
trivial  concern  of  eating  and  drinking,  had  not  the  more 
provident  fair  ones  sent  them  over  a  supply  of  dainty  bits, 
to  which  an  accompanying  draught  of  wine  had  the  best 
possible  relish. 

Every  separation,  every  stipulation,  that  comes  in  the  way 
of  our  gathering  passions,  sharpens  instead  of  stifling  them  ; 
and  in  this  case,  as  in  others,  it  may  be  presumed  that  the 
short  absence  had  awakened  equal  longing  in  both  parties. 
At  all  events,  the  dames  in  their  gay,  dazzling  gondola  were 
very  soon  to  be  seen  coming  back. 

This  word  gondola,  however,  let  us  not  take  up  in  the 
melancholy  Venetian  meaning :  here  it  signifies  a  cheerful, 
commodious,  social  bark ;  which,  had  our  little  company 
been  twice  as  large,  would  still  have  been  spacious  enough 
for  them. 

Some  days  were  spent  in  this  peculiar  way,  between  meet- 
ing and  parting,  between  separation  and  social  union  ;  but, 
amid  the  enjoyment  of  the  most  delightful  intercourse,  de- 
parture and  bereavement  still  hovered  before  the  agitated 
soul.  In  presence  of  the  new  friends  the  old  came  back  into 
the  mind :  were  these  new  ones  absent,  each  could  not  but 
admit  that  already  they  had  taken  deep  root  in  his  remem- 
brance. None  but  a  composed  and  tried  spirit,  like  our  fair 
widow,  could  in  such  moments  have  maintained  herself  in 
complete  equilibrium. 

Hilaria's  heart  had  been  too  deeply  wounded  to  admit  of 
any  new  entire  impression  :  but  as  the  grace  of  a  fair  scene 
encircles  us  of  itself  with  soothing  influences ;  so,  when  the 
mildness  of  tender-hearted  friends  conspires  with  it,  there 
comes  over  sense  and  soul  a  peculiar  mood  of  softness,  that 
recalls  to  us,  as  in  dreaming  visions,  the  past  and  the  absent, 
and  withdraws  the  present,  as  if  it  were  but  a  show,  into 
spiritual  remoteness.  Thus,  alternately  rocked  this  way  and 
that,  attracted  and  repelled,  approximated  and  removed,  they 
wavered  and  wended  for  several  days. 

Without  more  narrowly  investigating  these  circumstances, 
the  shrewd,  experienced  guide  imagined  he  observed  some 
alteration  in  the  calm  demeanor  of  his  heroines ;  and  when 
at  last  the  whimsical  part  of  their  predicament  became  known 
to  him,  he  contrived  here  also  to  devise  the  most  grateful 


200  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

expedient.  For,  as  our  two  shipmen  were  again  conducting 
the  ladies  to  their  usual  place  of  dinner,  they  were  met  by 
another  gay  bark,  which,  falling  alongside  of  theirs,  exhib- 
ited a  well-covered  table,  with  all  the  cheerful  invitations  of 
a  festive  repast :  the  friends  could  now  wait  in  company  the 
lapse  of  several  hours,  and  only  night  decided  the  customary 
separation. 

Happily  the  artist  and  Wilhelm  had,  in  their  former  voya- 
gings,  neglected,  out  of  a  certain  natural  caprice,  to  visit  the 
most  highly  ornamented  of  all  the  islands,  and  had  even  yet 
never  thought  of  showing  to  their  fair  friends  the  many  arti- 
ficial and  somewhat  dilapidated  curiosities  of  the  place,  before 
these  glorious  scenes  of  creation  were  entirely  gone  through. 
At  last,  however,  new  light  rose  on  their  minds.  They  took 
counsel  with  the  guide :  he  contrived  forthwith  to  expedite 
their  vo}rage,  and  all  looked  on  it  as  the  most  blissful  they 
had  yet  undertaken.  They  could  now  hope  and  expect,  after 
so  many  interrupted  joys,  to  spend  three  whole  heavenly 
days  assembled  together  in  a  sequestered  abode. 

And  here  we  cannot  but  bestow  on  this  guide  our  high 
commendation :  he  belonged  to  that  nimble,  active,  dexter- 
ous class,  who,  in  attendance  on  successive  parties,  often 
travel  the  same  roads  ;  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  conven- 
iences and  inconveniences  on  all  of  them,  they  understand 
how  to  use  the  one  and  evade  the  other,  and,  without  leav- 
ing their  own  profit  out  of  sight,  still  to  conduct  their  patrons 
more  cheaply  and  pleasantly  through  the  country  than  with- 
out such  aid  would  have  been  possible. 

At  this  time,  also,  a  sufficient  female  train,  belonging  to 
our  dames,  for  the  first  time  stepped  forth  in  decided  ac- 
tivity ;  and  the  fair  widow  could  now  make  it  one  of  her  con- 
ditions, that  the  friends  were  to  remain  with  her  as  guests, 
and  content  themselves  with  what  she  called  her  moderate 
entertainment.  In  this  point,  too,  all  prospered ;  for  the 
cxinning  functionary  had,  on  this  occasion  as  on  others,  con- 
trived to  make  so  good  a  use  of  the  letters  and  introductions 
which  his  heroines  had  brought  with  them,  that,  the  owner  of 
the  place  they  were  now  about  to  visit  being  absent,  both 
castle  and  garden,  kitchen  included,  were  thrown  open  for 
the  service  of  the  strangers,  —  nay,  some  prospect  was  held 
out,  even  of  the  cellar.  All  things  co-operated  so  harmoni- 
ously, that  our  wanderers  from  the  very  first  moment  felt 
themselves  as  if  at  home,  as  if  born  lords  of  this  paradise. 

The  whole  luggage  of  the  party  was  now  carried  to  the 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  201 

island,  an  arrangement  producing  much  convenience  to  all ; 
though  the  chief  advantage  aimed  at  was,  that  the  portfolios 
of  our  artist,  now  for  the  first  time  all  collected  together, 
might  afford  him  means  to  exhibit  in  continuous  sequence  to 
his  fair  hostesses  the  route  he  had  followed.  This  task  was 
undertaken  by  all  parties  with  delight.  Not  that  they  pro- 
ceeded in  the  common  style  of  amateur  and  artist,  mutually 
eulogizing :  here  was  a  gifted  man,  rewarded  by  the  most 
sincere  and  judicious  praise.  But  that  we  fall  not  into  the 
suspicion  of  attempting,  with  general  phrases,  to  palm  on 
credulous  readers  what  we  could  not  openly  show  them,  let 
us  here  insert  the  judgment  of  a  critic,  who  some  years  after- 
wards viewed  with  studious  admiration  both  the  pieces  here 
in  question,  and  the  others  of  a  like  or  similar  sort  by  the 
same  hand. 

"  He  succeeds  in  representing  the  cheerful  repose  of  lake- 
prospects,  where  houses  in  friendly  approximation,  imaging 
themselves  in  the  clear  wave,  seem  as  if  bathing  in  its  depths  ; 
shores  encircled  with  green  hills,  behind  which  rise  forest 
mountains,  and  icy  peaks  of  glaciers.  The  tone  of  coloring 
in  such  scenes  is  gay,  mirthfully  clear ;  the  distances,  as  if 
overflowed  with  softening  vapor,  which,  from  watered  hol- 
lows and  river  valleys,  mounts  up  grayer  and  mistier,  and 
indicates  their  windings.  No  less  is  the  master's  art  to  be 
praised  in  views  from  valleys  lying  nearer  the  high  Alpine 
ranges,  where  declivities  slope  down,  luxuriantly  overgrown, 
and  fresh  streams  roll  hastily  along  by  the  foot  of  rocks. 

"With  exquisite  skill,  in  the  deep,  shady  trees  of  the  fore- 
ground, he  gives  the  distinctive  character  of  the  several 
species ;  satisfying  us  in  the  form  of  the  whole,  as  in  the 
structure  of  the  branches  and  the  details  of  the  leaves,  —  no 
less  so  in  the  fresh  green,  with  its  manifold  shadings,  where 
soft  airs  appear  as  if  fanning  us  with  benignant  breath,  and 
the  lights  as  if  thereby  put  in  motion. 

"  In  the  middle  ground  his  lively  green  tone  grows  fainter 
b}-  degrees,  and  at  last,  on  the  more  distant  mountain  tops, 
passing  into  weak  violet,  weds  itself  with  the  blue  of  the  sky. 
But  our  artist  is,  above  all,  happy  in  his  paintings  of  high 
Alpine  regions ;  in  seizing  the  simple  greatness  and  stillness 
of  their  character ;  the  wide  pastures  on  the  slopes,  clothed 
with  the  freshest  green,  where  dark,  solitary  firs  stand  forth 
from  the  grassy  carpet ;  and  from  high  cliffs  foaming  brooks 
rush  down.  Whether  he  relieve  his  pasturages  with  grazing 
cattle,  or  the  narrow,  winding,  rocky  path  with  mules  and 


202  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

laden  pack-horses,  he  paints  all  with  equal  truth  and  rich- 
ness :  still  introduced  in  the  proper  place,  and  not  in  too 
great  copiousness,  they  decorate  and  enliven  these  scenes 
without  interrupting,  without  lessening,  their  peaceful  soli- 
tude. The  execution  testifies  a  master's  hand,  —  easy  with 
a  few  sure  strokes,  and  yet  complete.  In  his  later  pieces  he 
employed  glittering  English,  permanent  colors  on  paper: 
these  pictures,  accordingly,  are  of  pre-eminently  blooming 
tone,  cheerful,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  strong  and  sated. 

"  His  views  of  deep  mountain  chasms,  where  round  and 
round  nothing  fronts  us  but  dead  rock ;  where,  in  the  abyss, 
overspanned  by  its  bold  arch,  the  wild  stream  rages,  —  are, 
indeed,  of  less  attraction  than  the  former ;  yet  their  truth 
excites  us :  we  admire  the  great  effect  of  the  whole,  pro- 
duced at  so  little  cost,  by  a  few  expressive  strokes,  and 
masses  of  local  colors. 

"  With  no  less  accuracy  of  character  can  he  represent  the 
regions  of  the  topmost  Alpine  ranges,  where  neither  tree  nor 
shrub  any  more  appears  ;  but  only,  amid  the  rocky  teeth  and 
snow  summits,  a  few  sunny  spots  clothe  themselves  with  a 
soft  sward.  Beautiful  and  balmy  and  inviting  as  he  colors 
these  spots,  he  has  here  wisel}*  forborne  to  introduce  grazing 
herds  ;  for  these  regions  give  food  only  to  the  chamois,  and 
a  perilous  employment  to  the  wild-hay-men." 

"  We  shall  not  deviate  from  our  purpose  of  bringing  the 
condition  of  these  waste  scenes  as  close  as  possible  to  the 
conception  of  our  readers,  if  to  this  word,  wild-hay-man, 
or  Wildheuer,  we  subjoin  a  short  explanation.  It  is  a  name 
given  to  the  poorer  inhabitants  of  the  upland  Alpine  ranges, 
who  occupy  themselves  in  making  hay  from  such  grassy  spots 
as  are  inaccessible  to  cattle.  For  this  purpose  they  climb, 
with  cramps  on  their  feet,  the  steepest  and  most  dangerous 
cliffs  ;  or  from  high  crags  let  themselves  down  by  ropes  when 
this  is  necessary,  and  so  reach  these  grassy  patches.  The 
grass  once  cut  and  dried  to  hay,  they  throw  it  down  from  the 
heights  into  the  deeper  valleys ;  where,  being  collected  to- 
gether, it  is  sold  to  cattle-owners,  with  whom,  on  account  of 
its  superior  quality,  it  finds  a  ready  market." 

These  paintings,  which  must  have  gratified  and  attracted 
any  eye,  were  viewed  by  Hilaria,  in  particular,  with  great 
attention  ;  and  from  her  observations  it  became  clear,  that, 
in  this  department,  she  herself  was  no  stranger.  To  the 
artist,  least  of  all,  did  this  continue  secret :  nor  could  ap- 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  203 

proval  from  any  one  have  been  more  precious  to  him  than 
from  this  most  graceful  of  all  persons.  Her  companion, 
therefore,  kept  silence  no  longer,  but  blamed  Hilaria  for  not 
coming  forward  with  her  own  accomplishment,  but  lingering 
in  this  case  as  she  always  did,  —  now  where  the  question  was 
not  of  being  praised  or  blamed,  but  of  being  instructed.  A 
fairer  opportunity,  she  said,  might  not  easily  occur. 

And  now  it  came  to  light,  when  she  was  thus  forced  to 
exhibit  her  portfolios,  what  a  talent  was  lying  hid  behind  this 
still  and  most  lovely  nature  :  the  capacity  had  been  derived 
from  birth,  and  diligently  cultivated  by  practice.  She  pos- 
sessed a  true  eye ;  a  delicate  hand,  such  as  women,  accus- 
tomed to  use  it  in  their  dressing  and  decorating  operations, 
find  available  in  higher  art.  You  might,  doubtless,  observe 
unsureness  in  the  strokes,  and,  in  consequence,  a  too  un- 
decided character  in  the  objects :  but  you  could  not  help 
admiring  the  most  faithful  execution  ;  though  the  whole  was 
not  seized  in  its  happiest  effect,  not  grouped  and  adjusted 
with  the  skill  of  an  artist.  She  is  afraid,  you  would  say,  of 
profaning  her  object,  if  she  keep  not  completely  true  to  it : 
hence  she  becomes  precise  and  stiff,  and  loses  herself  in 
details. 

But  now,  by  the  great,  free  talent,  by  the  bold  hand  of 
the  artist,  she  feels  rising,  awakening  within  her,  whatever 
genuine  feeling  and  taste  had  till  now  slumbered  in  her 
mind :  she  perceives  that  she  has  but  to  take  heart,  and 
earnestly  and  punctually  to  follow  some  fundamental  maxims 
which  the  artist,  with  penetrating  judgment  and  friendly 
importunity,  is  repeating,  and  impressing  on  her.  That 
sureness  of  stroke  comes  of  its  own  accord ;  she  by  degrees 
dwells  less  on  the  parts  than  on  the  whole :  and  thus  the 
fairest  capability  rises  on  a  sudden  to  fulfilment ;  as  a  rose- 
bud, which  in  the  evening  we  passed  by  unobservant,  breaks 
forth  in  the  morning  at  sunrise  before  our  face ;  and  the 
living,  quivering  movement  of  this  lordly  blossom,  struggling 
out  to  the  light,  seems  almost  visible  before  our  eyes. 

Nor  did  this  intellectual  culture  remain  without  moral 
effects  ;  for,  on  a  pure  spirit,  it  produces  a  magic  impression 
to  be  conscious  of  that  heartfelt  thankfulness  natural  towards 
any  one  to  whom  it  stands  indebted  for  decisive  instruction. 
In  this  case  it  was  the  first  glad  emotion  which  had  risen  in 
Hilaria's  soul  for  many  a  week.  To  see  this  lordly  world 
lying  round  her  day  after  day,  and  now  at  once  to  feel  the 
instantly  acquired,  more  perfect  gift  of  representing  it ! 


204  MINISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

What  delight  in  figures  and  tints,  to  be  approaching  nearer 
the  Unspeakable !  She  felt  herself  surprised  as  with  a  new 
youth,  and  could  not  refuse  a  peculiar  kindliness  to  the  man 
who  had  procured  for  her  such  happiness. 

Thus  did  the  two  sit  together:  you  could  scarcely  have 
determined  whether  he  were  readier  in  communicating  secret 
advantages  in  art,  or  she  in  seizing  them  and  turning  them 
to  practice.  The  happiest  rivalry,  such  as  too  seldom  rises 
between  scholar  and  master,  here  took  place.  Many  a  time 
you  might  observe  the  friend  preparing  with  some  decisive 
stroke  to  influence  her  drawing ;  which  she,  on  the  other 
hand,  would  gently  decline,  hastening  to  do  the  wished,  the 
necessary,  of  her  own  accord,  and  always  to  her  master's 
astonishment. 

The  fair  widow,  in  the  mean  while,  walked  along  the  ter- 
races with  Wilhelm,  under  cypresses  and  pines,  now  under 
vine,  now  under  orange  groves,  and  at  last  could  not  but 
fulfil  the  faintly  indicated  wish  of  her  new  friend,  and  disclose 
to  him  the  strange  entanglement  by  which  the  two  fair  pil- 
grims, cut  off  from  their  former  ties,  and  straitly  united  to 
one  another,  had  been  sent  forth  to  wander  over  the  world. 

AVilhelm,  who  wanted  not  the  gift  of  accurately  noting 
what  he  saw,  took  down  her  narrative  some  time  afterwards 
in  writing :  this,  as  he  compiled  it  and  transmitted  it  by 
Hersilia  to  Natalia,  we  purpose  by  and  by  communicating  to 
our  readers. 

The  last  evening  was  now  come ;  and  a  rising,  most  clear, 
full  moon  concealed  the  transition  from  day  to  night.  The 
party  had  assembled  and  seated  themselves  on  one  of  the 
highest  terraces,  to  see  distinct  and  unimpeded,  and  glitter- 
ing in  the  sheen  of  east  and  west,  the  peaceful  lake,  hidden 
partly  in  its  length,  but  visible  over  all  its  breadth. 

Whatever  in  such  circumstances  might  be  talked  of,  it  was 
natural  once  more  to  repeat  the  hundred  times  repeated  ; 
to  mention  the  beauties  of  this  sky,  of  this  water,  of  this 
land,  under  the  influences  of  a  strong  sun  and  milder  moon, 
—  nay,  exclusively  and  lyrically  to  recognize  and  describe 
them. 

But  what  none  of  them  uttered,  what  each  durst  scarcely 
avow  to  himself,  was  the  deep,  mournful  feeling  which, 
stronger  or  weaker,  but  with  equal  truth  and  tenderness,  was 
beating  in  every  bosom.  The  presentiment  of  parting  dif- 
fused itself  over  present  union :  a  gradual  stagnation  was 
becoming  almost  painful. 


MEISTEIl'S  TRAVELS.  205 

Then  at  last  the  singer  roused  himself,  summoned  up  his 
resolution  ;  with  strong  tones,  preluding  on  his  instrument ; 
heedless  of  the  former  well-meant  reserve.  Miguon's  figure, 
with  the  first  soft  song  of  the  gentle  child,  were  hovering 
before  him.  Passionately  hurried  over  the  limits,  with  long- 
ing touch  awakening  the  sweetly  sounding  strings,  he  began  to 
raise,  — 

"  Dost  know  the  land  where  citrons,  lemons,  grow, 
Gold  oranges  'neath  dusky  foliage  "  ... 

Hersilia  rose  in  deepest  agitation,  and  hurried  away,  veiling 
her  face :  our  fair  widow,  with  a  motion  of  refusal,  waved 
her  hand  towards  the  singer ;  while  she  caught  Wilhelm's  arm 
with  the  other.  The  perplexed  and  half-unconscious  youth 
followed  Hilaria:  Wilhelm,  by  his  more  considerate  guide, 
was  led  after  them.  And  now,  when  they  stood  all  four  under 
the  high  moonshine,  the  general  emotion  was  no  longer  to 
be  concealed.  The  women  threw  themselves  into  each  other's 
arms  ;  the  men  embraced  each  other ;  and  Luna  was  witness 
of  the  noblest,  chastest  tears.  Some  recollection  slowly  re- 
turned :  they  forced  themselves  asunder,  silent,  under  strange 
feelings  and  wishes,  from  which  hope  was  already  cut  off. 
And  now  our  artist,  whom  his  friend  dragged  with  him,  felt 
himself  here  under  the  void  heaven,  in  the  solemn,  lovely 
hour  of  night,  initiated  in  the  first  stage  of  renunciation, 
which  those  friends  had  already  passed  through,  though  they 
now  saw  themselves  again  in  danger  of  being  sharply  tried. 

Not  till  late  had  the  young  men  gone  to  rest ;  awakening 
in  the  early  morning,  they  took  heart ;  thought  themselves 
now  strong  enough  for  a  farewell  to  this  paradise  ;  devised 
many  plans  for  still,  without  violation  of  duty,  at  least  lin- 
gering in  the  pleasant  neighborhood. 

While  purposing  to  introduce  their  projects  to  this  effect, 
they  were  cut  short  by  intelligence,  that,  with  the  earliest 
break  of  day,  the  ladies  had  departed.  A  letter  from  the 
hand  of  our  Queen  of  Hearts  gave  them  more  precise  in- 
formation. You  might  have  doubted  whether  sense  rather 
than  goodness,  love  rather  than  friendship,  acknowledgment 
of  merit  rather  than  soft,  bashful  favor,  was  expressed  in  it. 
But,  alas  !  in  the  conclusion  stood  the  hard  request,  that  our 
two  wanderers  were  neither  to  follow  their  heroines,  nor  any- 
where to  seek  them  ;  nay,  if  they  chanced  to  see  each  other, 
they  were  faithfully  to  avoid  meeting. 

And  now  the  paradise,  as  if  by  the  touch  of  an  enchanter's 


206  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

rod,  was  changed  for  our  friends  into  an  utter  desert ;  and 
certainly  they  would  have  smiled  at  themselves  had  they  per- 
ceived at  this  moment  how  unjust  and  unthankful  they  were 
on  a  sudden  become  to  so  fair  and  remarkable  a  scene.  No 
self-seeking  hypochondriac  could  so  sharply  and  spitefully 
have  rated  and  censured  the  decay  of  the  buildings,  the  neg- 
lected condition  of  the  walls,  the  weathered  aspect  of  the 
towers,  the  grassy  obstruction  of  the  walks,  the  perishing  of 
the  trees,  the  mossiness  and  mouldering  of  the  artificial 
grottos,  and  whatever  else  of  that  sort  was  to  be  observed, 
as  our  two  travellers  now  did.  By  degrees,  however,  they 
settled  themselves  as  circumstances  would  admit :  the  artist 
carefully  packed  up  his  work ;  they  both  set  sail ;  Wilhelm 
accompanying  him  to  the  upper  quarter  of  the  lake,  where, 
by  pi'evious  agreement,  the  former  set  forth  on  his  way  to 
Natalia,  to  introduce  her  by  his  fair  landscape-papers  into 
scenes  which,  perhaps,  she  might  not  soon  have  an  opportunity 
of  viewing  with  her  eyes.  He  was  at  the  same  time  com- 
missioned to  inform  her  confessionally  of  the  late  incident, 
which  had  reduced  him  to  a  state  such  that  he  might  be  re- 
ceived with  hearty  kindness  by  the  confederates  in  the  vow 
of  renunciation,  and  with  soft,  friendly  treatment  iu  the 
midst  of  them,  be  comforted  if  he  could  not  be  healed. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  this  division  of  our  work,  the  exculpatory  "  Word  from 
the  Editor"  might  have  been  more  requisite  than  even  in  the 
foregoing  chapter ;  for  there,  though  we  had  not  the  paint- 
ings of  the  master  and  his  fair  scholar,  on  which  all  de- 
pended, to  exhibit  before  our  readers,  and  could  neither 
make  the  perfection  of  the  finished  artist,  nor  the  commen- 
cing stintedness  nor  rapid  development  of  the  art-loving 
beauty,  visible  to  their  eyes,  yet  still  the  description  might 
not  be  altogether  inefficient,  and  many  genial  and  thought- 
exalting  matters  remained  to  be  imparted.  But  here,  where 
the  business  in  hand  is  a  great  object,  which  one  could  have 
wished  to  see  treated  in  the  most  precise  manner,  there  is, 
unhappily,  too  little  noted  down  ;  and  we  cannot  hope  that  a 
complete  view  will  be  attained  from  our  communications. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  207 

Again,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  in  the  novel,  as  in  uni- 
versal history,  we  have  to  struggle  with  uncertain  computa- 
tions of  time,  and  cannot  always  decisively  fix  what  has 
happened  sooner,  and  what  later.  We  shall  hold,  therefore, 
by  the  surest  points. 

That  a  year  must  have  passed  since  Wilhelm  left  the 
pedagogic  province  is  rendered  certain  by  the  circumstance 
that  we  now  meet  him  at  the  festival  to  which  lie  had  been 
invited :  but  as  our  wandering  reuunciants  sometimes  unex- 
pectedly dive  down  and  vanish  from  our  sight,  and  then 
again  emerge  into  view  at  a  place  where  they  were  not 
looked  for,  it  cannot  be  determined  with  certainty  what  track 
they  have  followed  in  the  interim. 

Now,  however,  the  traveller  advances  from  the  side  of 
the  plain  country  into  the  pedagogic  province :  he  comes 
over  fields  and  pasturages ;  skirts,  on  the  dry  lea,  many  a 
little  freshet ;  sees  bushy  rather  than  woody  hills ;  a  free 
prospect  on  all  sides,  over  a  surface  but  little  undulated. 
On  such  tracks,  he  did  not  long  doubt  that  he  was  in  the 
horse-producing  region  ;  and  accordingly  he  failed  not  here 
and  there  to  observe  greater  or  smaller  herds  of  mares  and 
foals.  But  all  at  once  the  horizon  darkens  with  a  fierce 
cloud  of  dust,  which,  rapidly  swelling  nearer  and  nearer, 
covers  all  the  breadth  of  the  space,  yet  at  last,  rent  asunder 
by  a  sharp  side  wind,  is  forced  to  disclose  its  interior 
tumult. 

At  full  gallop  rushes  forward  a  vast  multitude  of  these 
noble  animals,  guided  and  held  together  by  mounted  keep- 
ers. The  monstrous  hurly-burly  whirls  past  the  wanderer : 
a  fair  boy  among  the  keepers  looks  at  him  with  surprise, 
pulls  in,  leaps  down,  and  embraces  his  father. 

Now  commences  a  questioning  and  answering  :  the  boy  re- 
lates that  an  agricultural  life  had  not  agreed  with  him  ;  the 
harvest-home  he  had,  indeed,  found  delightful,  but  the  subse- 
quent arrangements,  the  ploughing  and  digging,  by  no  means 
so.  This  the  superiors  remark,  and  observe  at  the  same 
time  that  he  likes  to  employ  himself  with  animals :  they 
direct  him  to  the  useful  and  necessary  domestic  breeds,  try 
him  as  a  sequestered  herdsman  and  keeper,  and  at  last  pro- 
mote him  to  the  more  lively  equestrian  occupation,  where 
accordingly  he  now,  himself  a  young  foal,  has  to  watch  over 
foals,  and  to  forward  their  good  nourishment  and  training 
under  the  oversight  of  skilful  comrades. 


208  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

Father  and  son,  following  the  herd  by  various  lone-lying 
spacious  farm-yards,  reached  the  town,  or  hamlet,  near  which 
the  great  annual  market  was  held.  Here  rages  an  incredible 
confusion,  in  which  it  is  hard  to  determine  whether  mer- 
chants or  wares  raise  more  dust.  From  all  countries,  pur- 
chasers assemble  here  to  procure  animals  of  noble  blood  and 
careful  training :  all  the  languages  of  the  earth,  yon  would 
fancy,  meet  your  ear.  Amid  all  this  hubbub,  too,  rises  the 
lively  sound  of  powerful  wind  instruments :  every  thing  be- 
speaks motion,  vigor,  and  life. 

The  wanderer  meets  his  overseer  of  last  year,  who  presents 
him  to  the  others :  he  is  even  introduced  to  one  of  the  Three, 
and  by  him,  though  only  in  passing,  paternally  and  expres- 
sively saluted. 

Wilhelm,  here  again  observing  an  example  of  exclusive 
culture  and  life-leading,  expresses  a  desire  to  know  in  what 
else  the  pupils  are  practised,  by  way  of  counterpoise,  that 
so  in  this  wild,  and,  to  a  certain  degree,  savage  occupation 
of  feeding  animals,  the  youth  may  not  himself  roughen  into 
an  animal.  And,  in  answer,  he  is  gratified  to  learn,  that  pre- 
cisely with  this  violent  and  rugged-looking  occupation  the 
softest  in  the  world  is  united,  —  the  learning  and  practising 
of  languages. 

"To  this,"  it  was  said,  "we  have  been  induced  by  the 
circumstance,  that  there  are  youths  from  all  quarters  of  the 
world  assembled  here  :  now,  to  prevent  them  from  uniting,  as 
usually  happens  when  abroad,  into  national  knots,  and  form- 
ing exclusive  parties,  we  endeavor  by  a  free  communication 
of  speech  to  approximate  them. 

"  Indeed,  a  general  acquaintance  with  languages  is  here 
in  some  degree  rendered  necessary  ;  since,  in  our  yearly 
market  festivals,  every  foreigner  wishes  to  converse  in  his 
own  tones  and  idiom,  and,  in  the  course  of  cheapening  and 
purchasing,  to  proceed  with  all  possible  convenience.  That 
no  Babylonish  confusion  of  tongues,  however,  no  corruption 
of  speech,  may  arise  from  this  practice,  we  employ  a  differ- 
ent language  month  by  month,  throughout  the  year  ;  accord- 
ing to  the  maxim,  that,  in  learning  any  thing,  its  first  princi- 
ples alone  should  be  taught  by  constraint. 

"  We  look  upon  our  scholars,"  said  the  overseer,  "as  so 
many  swimmers,  who,  in  the  element  which  threatened  to 
swallow  them,  feel  with  astonishment  that  they  are  lighter, 
that  it  bears  and  carries  them  forward ;  and  so  it  is  with 
every  thing  that  man  undertakes. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  209 

"  However,  if  any  one  of  our  young  men  show  a  special 
inclination  for  this  or  the  other  language,  we  neglect  not,  in 
the  midst  of  this  tumultuous-looking  life,  which  nevertheless 
offers  very  many  quiet,  idly  solitary,  nay,  tedious  hours,  to 
provide  for  his  true  and  substantial  instruction.  Our  riding 
grammarians,  among  whom  there  are  even  some  pedagogues 
you  would  be  surprised  to  discover  among  these  bearded  and 
beardless  centaurs.  Your  Felix  has  turned  himself  to 
Italian  ;  and,  in  the  monotonous  solitude  of  his  herdsman 
life,  you  shall  hear  him  send  forth  many  a  dainty  song  with 
proper  feeling  and  taste.  Practical  activity  and  expertness 
are  far  more  compatible  with  sufficient  intellectual  culture 
than  is  generally  supposed." 

Each  of  these  districts  was  celebrating  its  peculiar  festi- 
val, so  the  guest  was  now  conducted  to  the  instrumental 
music  department.  This  tract,  skirted  by  the  level  country, 
began  from  its  very  border  to  exhibit  kind  and  beautifully 
changing  valleys  ;  little  trim  woods  ;  soft  brooks,  by  the  side 
of  which,  among  the  sward,  here  and  there  a  mossy  crag 
modestly  stood  forth.  Scattered,  bush-encircled  dwellings 
you  might  see  on  the  hillsides :  in  soft  hollows,  the  houses 
clustered  nearer  together.  Those  gracefully  separated  cot- 
tages lay  so  far  apart,  that  neither  tones  nor  mistones  could 
be  heard  from  one  to  the  other. 

They  now  approached  a  wide  space,  begirt  with  buildings 
and  shady  trees,  where  crowded,  man  on  man,  all  seemed  on 
the  stretch  of  expectation  and  attention.  Just  as  ttae 
stranger  entered,  there  was  sent  forth  from  all  the  instru- 
ments a  grand  symphony,  the  full,  rich  power  and  tenderness 
of  which  he  could  not  but  admire.  Opposite  the  spacious 
main  orchestra  was  a  smaller  one,  which  failed  not  to  attract 
his  notice :  here  stood  various  younger  and  elder  scholars ; 
each  held  his  instrument  in  readiness  without  playing :  these 
were  the}-  who  as  yet  could  not,  or  durst  not,  join  in  with 
the  whole.  It  was  interesting  to  observe  how  they  stood,  as 
it  were,  on  the  start ;  and  our  friend  was  informed  that  such 
a  festival  seldom  passed  over  without  some  one  or  other  of 
them  suddenly  developing  his  talent. 

As,  among  the  instrumental,  music  singing  was  now  intro- 
duced, no  doubt  could  remain  that  this  also  was  favored. 
To  the  question,  What  other  sort  of  culture  was  here 
blended  in  kind  union  with  the  chief  employment,  our  wan- 
derer learned,  in  reply,  that  it  was  poetry,  and  of  the 
lyrical  kind.  In  this  matter  it  appeared  their  main  concern 


210  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

was,  that  both  arts  should  be  developed,  each  for  itself  and 
from  itself,  but  then  also  in  contrast  and  combination  with 
each  other.  The  scholars  were  first  instructed  in  each 
according  to  its  own  limitations,  then  taught  how  the  two 
reciprocally  limit,  and  again  reciprocally  free  each  other. 

To  poetical  rhythm  the  musical  artist  opposes  measure 
of  tone,  and  movement  of  tone.  But  here  the  mastery  of 
Music  over  Poesy  soon  shows  itself ;  for  if  the  latter,  as 
is  fit  and  necessary,  keep  her  quantities  never  so  steadily 
in  view,  still  for  the  musician  few  syllables  are  decidedly 
short  or  long  :  at  his  pleasure  he  can  overset  the  most  consci- 
entious procedure  of  the  rhythmer,  —  nay,  change  prose  itself 
into  song ;  from  which,  in  truth,  the  richest  possibilities 
present  themselves :  and  the  poet  would  soon  feel  himself 
annihilated  if  he  could  not,  on  his  own  side,  by  lyrical 
tenderness  and  boldness,  inspire  the  musician  with  rever- 
ence, and,  now  in  the  softest  sequence,  now  by  the  most 
abrupt  transitions,  awaken  new  feelings  in  the  mind. 

The  singers  to  be  met  with  here  are  mostly  poets  them- 
selves. Dancing  also  is  taught  in  its  fundamental  princi- 
ples, that  so  all  these  accomplishments  may  regularly  spread 
themselves  into  every  district. 

The  guest,  on  being  led  across  the  next  boundary,  at 
once  perceived  an  altogether  different  mode  of  building. 
The  houses  were  no  longer  scattered  into  separation,  no 
longer  in  the  shape  of  cottages :  they  stood  regularly  united, 
beautiful  in  their  exterior,  spacious,  convenient,  and  elegant 
within  ;  you  here  saw  an  unconfined,  well-built,  stately  town, 
corresponding  to  the  scene  it  stood  in.  Here  the  plastic 
arts,  and  the  trades  akin  to  them  have  their  home ;  and  a 
peculiar  silence  reigns  over  these  spaces. 

The  plastic  artist,  it  is  true,  must  still  figure  himself  as 
standing  in  relation  to  all  that  lives  and  moves  among  men ; 
but  his  occupation  is  solitary :  and  yet,  by  the  strangest 
contradiction,  there  is,  perhaps,  no  other  that  so  decidedh' 
requires  a  living  accompaniment  and  society.  Now,  here, 
in  that  circle,  is  each  in  silence  forming  shapes  that  are 
forever  to  engage  the  eyes  of  men :  a  holida}'  stillness 
reigns  over  the  whole  scene ;  and  did  you  not  here  and 
there  catch  the  picking  of  stone-hewers,  and  the  measured 
stroke  of  carpenters,  who  are  now  busily  employed  in  finish- 
ing a  lordly  edifice,  the  air  were  unmoved  by  any  sound. 

Our  wanderer  was  struck,  moveover,  by  the  earnestness, 
the  singular  rigor,  with  which  beginners,  as  well  as  more 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  211 

advanced  pupils,  were  treated :  it  seemed  as  if  no  one,  by 
his  own  power  and  judgment,  accomplished  any  thing,  but 
as  if  a  secret  spirit,  striving  towards  one  single  great  aim, 
pervaded  and  vivified  them  all.  Nowhere  did  you  observe  a 
scheme  or  sketch :  every  stroke  was  drawn  with  forethought. 
As  the  wanderer  inquired  of  his  guide  the  reason  of  this 
peculiar  procedure,  he  was  told,  "  That  imagination  was, 
in  itself,  a  vague,  unstable  power,  which  the  whole  merit  of 
the  plastic  artist  consisted  in  more  and  more  determining, 
fixing,  nay,  at  last  exalting  to  visible  presence." 

The  necessity  for  sure  principles  in  other  arts  was  men- 
tioned. "Would  the  musician,"  it  was  said,  "permit  his 
scholar  to  dash  wildly  over  the  strings, — nay,  to  invent  bars 
and  intervals  for  himself  at  his  own  good  pleasure?  Here 
it  is  palpable  that  nothing  can  be  left  to  the  caprice  of  the 
learner :  the  element  he  is  to  work  in  is  irrevocably  given  ; 
the  implement  he  is  to  wield  is  put  into  his  hands  ;  nay,  the 
very  way  and  manner  of  his  using  it,  I  mean  the  changing 
of  the  fingers,  he  finds  prescribed  to  him ;  so  ordered  that 
the  one  part  of  his  hand  shall  give  place  to  the  other,  and 
each  prepare  the  proper  path  for  its  follower:  by  such 
determinate  co-operation  only  can  the  impossible  at  last 
become  possible. 

' '  But  what  chiefly  vindicates  the  practice  of  strict  requi- 
sitions, of  decided  laws,  is  that  genius,  that  native  talent, 
is  precisely  the  readiest  to  seize  them,  and  yield  them  willing 
obedience.  It  is  only  the  half-gifted  that  would  wish  to 
put  his  own  contracted  singularity  in  the  place  of  the  uncon- 
ditional whole,  and  justify  his  false  attempts  under  cover 
of  an  unconstrainable  originality  and  independence.  To 
this  we  grant  no  currency :  we  guard  our  scholars  from  all 
such  misconceptions,  whereby  a  large  portion  of  life,  nay, 
often  the  whole  of  life,  is  apt  to  be  perplexed  and  dis- 
jointed. 

"With  genius  we  love  most  to  be  concerned,  for  this  is 
animated  just  by  that  good  spirit  of  quickly  recognizing 
what  is  profitable  for  it.  Genius  understands  that  Art  is 
called  Art,  because  it  is  not  Nature.  Genius  bends  itself 
to  respect  even  towards  what  may  be  named  conventional ; 
for  what  is  this  but  agreeing,  as  the  most  distinguished  men 
have  agreed,  to  regard  the  unalterable,  the  indispensable, 
as  the  best?  And  does  not  such  submission  always  turn  to 
good  account? 

"  Here,  too,  as  in  all  our  departments,  to  the  great  assist- 


212  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

ance  of  the  teachers,  our  three  reverences  and  their  signs, 
with  some  changes  suitable  to  the  nature  of  the  main  em- 
ployment, have  been  introduced  and  inculcated." 

The  wanderer,  in  his  further  survey,  was  surprised  to 
observe  that  the  town  seemed  still  extending ;  street  unfold- 
ing itself  from  street,  and  so  offering  the  most  varied  pros- 
pects. The  exterior  of  the  edifices  corresponded  to  their 
destination :  they  were  dignified  and  stately,  not  so  much 
magnificent  as  beautiful.  To  the  nobler  and  more  earnest 
buildings  in  the  centre  of  the  town  the  more  cheerful  were 
harmoniously  appended ;  till,  farther  out,  gay,  decorated 
suburbs,  in  graceful  style,  stretched  forth  into  the  country, 
and  at  last  separated  into  garden-houses. 

The  stranger  could  not  fail  to  remark  that  the  dwellings 
of  the  musicians  in  the  preceding  district  were  by  no 
means  to  be  compared,  in  beauty  or  size,  with  the  present, 
which  painters,  statuaries,  and  architects  inhabited.  He 
was  told  that  this  arose  from  the  nature  of  the  thing.  The 
musician,  ever  shrouded  in  himself,  must  cultivate  his  in- 
most being,  that  so  he  may  turn  it  outwards.  The  sense 
of  the  eye  he  may  not  flatter.  The  eye  easily  corrupts 
the  judgment  of  the  ear,  and  allures  the  spirit  from  the 
inward  to  the  outward.  Inversely,  again,  the  plastic  artist 
has  to  live  in  the  external  world,  and  to  manifest  his 
inward  being,  as  it  were,  unconsciously,  in  and  upon  what 
is  outward.  Plastic  artists  should  dwell  like  kings  and 
gods :  how  else  are  they  to  build  and  decorate  for  kings 
and  gods?  They  must  at  last  so  raise  themselves  above 
the  common  that  the  whole  mass  of  a  people  may  feel 
itself  ennobled  in  and  by  their  works. 

Our  friend  then  begged  an  explanation  of  another  para- 
dox. Why,  at  this  time,  so  festive,  so  enlivening,  so 
tumultuously  excited,  in  the  other  regions,  the  great- 
est stillness  prevailed  here,  and  all  labors  were  con- 
tinued ? 

"A  plastic  artist,"  it  was  answered,  "needs  no  festival. 
"When  he  has  accomplished  something  excellent  it  stands, 
as  it  has  long  done  before  his  own  eye,  now  at  last  before 
the  eye  of  the  world.  In  his  task  he  needed  no  repetition, 
no  new  effort,  no  fresh  success ;  whereas  the  musician  con- 
stantly afflicts  himself  with  all  this :  and  to  him,  therefore, 
the  most  splendid  festival,  in  the  most  numerous  assem- 
blage, should  not  be  refused." 

"Yet,  at  such  a  season,"  replied  Wilhelm,  "something 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  213 

like  an  exhibition  might  be  desirable,  in  which  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  inspect  and  judge  the  triennial  progress  of  your 
best  pupils." 

"In  other  places,"  it  was  answered,  "  an  exhibition  may 
be  necessary :  with  us  it  is  not.  Our  whole  being  and 
nature  is  exhibition.  Look  round  you  at  these  buildings 
of  every  sort,  all  erected  by  our  pupils,  and  this  not  with- 
out plans,  a  hundred  times  talked  of  and  meditated ;  for 
the  builder  must  not  grope  and  experiment :  what  is  to 
continue  standing  must  stand  rightly,  and  satisfy,  if  not 
forever,  yet  at  least  for  a  long  space  of  time.  If  we 
cannot  help  committing  errors,  we  must  build  none. 

' '  With  statuaries  we  proceed  more  laxly,  most  so  of  all 
with  painters :  to  both  we  give  liberty  to  try  this  and  that,  each 
in  his  own  way.  It  stands  in  their  power  to  select,  in  the 
interior  or  exterior  compartments  of  edifices  in  public  places, 
some  space  which  they  may  incline  to  decorate.  They  give 
forth  their  ideas  ;  and,  if  these  are  in  some  degree  to  be  ap- 
proved of,  the  completion  of  them  is  permitted,  and  this  in 
two  ways  :  either  with  liberty,  sooner  or  later,  to  remove  the 
work,  should  it  come  to  displease  the  artist ;  or  with  the  con- 
dition that  what  is  once  set  up  shall  remain  unalterable  in  its 
place.  Most  part  choose  the  first  of  these  offers,  retaining 
in  their  own  hands  this  power  of  removal ;  and  in  the  per- 
formance they  constantly  avail  themselves  of  the  best  advice. 
The  second  case  occurs  seldomer ;  and  we  then  observe  that 
the  artist  trusts  less  to  himself,  holds  long  conferences  with 
companions  and  critics,  and  by  this  means  produces  works 
really  estimable,  and  deserving  to  endure." 

After  all  this  our  traveller  neglected  not  to  ask,  What 
other  species  of  instruction  was  combined  with  the  main  one 
here?  and  received  for  answer,  that  it  was  poetry,  and  of 
the  epic  sort. 

This  to  our  friend  must  have  seemed  a  little  singular,  when 
•  he  heard  further  that  the  pupils  were  not  allowed  to  read  or 
hear  any  finished  poems  by  ancient  or  modern  poets.  "  We 
merely  impart  to  them,"  it  was  said,  "  a  series  of  mythuses, 
traditions,  and  legends,  in  the  most  laconic  form.  And  now, 
from  the  pictorial  or  poetic  execution  of  these  subjects,  we 
at  once  discover  the  peculiar  productive  gift  of  the  genius 
devoted  to  the  one  or  the  other  art.  Both  poet  and  painter 
thus  labor  at  the  same  fountain  ;  and  each  endeavors  to  draw 
off  the  water  to  his  own  side  to  his  own  advantage,  and  at- 
tain his  own  required  objects  with  it ;  in  which  he  succeeds 


214  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

much  better  than  if  he  attempted  again  to  fashion  something 
that  has  been  fashioned  already." 

The  traveller  himself  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  how 
this  was  accomplished :  several  painters  were  busy  in  a  room  ; 
a  gay  young  friend  was  relating  with  great  minuteness  a  very 
simple  story ;  so  that  he  employed  almost  as  many  words  as 
the  others  did  pencil-strokes,  to  complete  the  same  exhibi- 
tion, and  round  it  fully  off. 

He  was  told,  that,  in  working  together,  the  friends  were 
wont  to  carry  on  much  pleasant  conversation  ;  and  that  in 
this  way  several  improvisator!  had  unfolded  their  gifts,  and 
succeeded  in  exciting  great  enthusiasm  for  this  twofold  mode 
of  representation. 

Our  friend  now  reverted  his  inquiries  to  the  subject  of 
plastic  art.  "You  have  no  exhibition,"  said  he,  "and 
therefore,  I  suppose,  give  no  prize  either?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  other,  "  we  do  not;  but  here,  close  by, 
we  can  show  you  something  which  we  reckon  more  useful." 

They  entered  a  large  hall,  appropriately  lighted  from 
above :  a  wide  circle  of  busy  artists  first  attracted  the  eye  ; 
and  from  the  midst  of  these  rose  a  colossal  group  of  figures, 
elevated  with  pleasing  effect  in  the  centre  of  the  place.  Male 
and  female  forms,  of  gigantic  power,  in  violent  postures,  re- 
minded one  of  that  lordly  fight  between  heroic  youths  and 
Amazons,  wherein  hate  and  enmity  at  last  issue  in  mutually 
regretful  alliance.  This  strikingly  intertwisted  piece  of  art 
presented  an  equally  favorable  aspect  from  every  point  of 
its  circuit.  In  a  wide  ring  round  it  were  many  artists  sitting 
and  standing,  each  occupied  in  his  own  way,  —  the  painter  at 
his  easel,  the  drawer  at  his  sketch-board  :  some  were  model- 
ling it  in  full,  others  in  bas-relief :  there  were  even  architects 
engaged  in  planning  the  pedestal,  on  which  a  similar  group, 
when  wrought  in  marble,  was  to  be  erected.  Each  individ- 
ual was  proceeding  by  his  own  method  in  this  task :  painters 
nud  drawers  were  bringing  out  the  group  to  a  plain  surface, 
careful,  however,  not  to  destroy  its  figures,  but  to  retain  as 
much  of  it  as  possible.  In  the  same  manner  were  works  in 
bas-relief  going  forward.  One  man  only  had  repeated  the 
whole  group  in  a  miniature  scale,  and  in  certain  movements 
and  arrangements  of  limbs  he  really  seemed  to  have  sur- 
passed his  model. 

And  now  it  came  out  that  this  man  was  the  maker  of  the 
model ;  who,  before  working  it  in  marble,  had  here  submit- 
ted his  performance,  not  to  a  critical,  but  to  a  practical  trial, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  215 

and  by  accurately  observing  whatever  any  of  his  fellow-artists 
in  his  special  department  and  way  of  thought  might  notice, 
retain,  or  alter  in  the  group,  was  purposing,  in  subsequent 
consideration,  to  turn  all  this  to  his  own  profit:  so  that, 
when  at  length  the  grand  work  stood  finished  in  marble, 
though  undertaken,  planned,  and  executed  by  one,  it  might 
seem  to  belong  to  all. 

The  greatest  silence  reigned  throughout  this  apartment 
also  ;  but  the  superior  raised  his  voice,  and  cried,  "  Is  there 
any  of  you,  then,  who,  in  presence  of  this  stationary  work, 
can,  with  gifted  words,  so  awaken  our  imagination,  that  all 
we  here  see  concreted  shall  again  become  fluid,  without  losing 
its  character,  and  so  convince  us  that  what  our  artist  has 
here  laid  hold  of  was  indeed  the  worthiest?  " 

Called  forth  on  all  sides  by  name,  a  fair  youth  laid  down 
his  work,  and,  as  he  stepped  forward,  began  a  quiet  speech, 
seemingly  intended  merely  to  describe  the  present  group  of 
figures  ;  but  erelong  he  cast  himself  into  the  region  of  poetry, 
plunged  into  the  middle  of  the  action,  and  ruled  this  element 
like  a  master :  by  degrees  his  representation  so  swelled  and 
mounted  by  lordly  words  and  gestures,  that  the  rigid  group 
seemed  actually  to  move  about  its  axis,  and  the  number  of 
its  figures  to  be  doubled  and  trebled.  Wilhelm  stood  en- 
raptured, and  at  last  exclaimed,  "  Can  we  now  forbear  pass- 
ing over  into  song  itself,  into  rhythmic  melody?  " 

"This  I  should  wish  to  deprecate,"  said  the  overseer; 
"  for,  if  our  excellent  statuary  will  be  candid,  he  will  confess 
to  us  that  our  poet  scarcely  pleases  him ;  and  this  because 
their  arts  lie  in  the  most  opposite  regions  :  on  the  other  hand, 
I  durst  bet,  that  here  and  there  a  painter  has  not  failed  to 
appropriate  some  living  touches  from  the  speech. 

"  A  soft,  kindly  song,  however,  I  could  wish  our  friend  to 
hear :  there  is  one,  for  instance,  which  you  sing  to  an  air  so 
lovely  and  earnest ;  it  turns  on  art  in  general,  and  I  myself 
never  listen  to  it  without  pleasure." 

After  a  pause,  in  which  they  beckoned  to  each  other,  and 
settled  their  arrangements  by  signs,  the  following  heart  and 
spirit  stirring  song  resounded  in  stately  melody  from  all 
sides :  — 


"  While  inventing  and  effecting:, 

Artist  by  thyself  continue  long: 
The  result  art  thpu  expecting, 
Haste  and  see  it  in  the  throng. 


216  MINISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

Here  in  others  look,  discover 
What  thy  own  life's  course  has  been; 

And  thy  deeds  of  years  past  over, 
In  thy  fellow-man  be  seen. 

The  devising,  the  uniting, 

What  and  how  the  forms  shall  be, 
One  thing  will  the  other  lighten, 

And  at  last  comes  joy  to  thee! 
Wise  and  true  what  thou  impartest, 

Fairly  shaped,  and  softly  done: 
Thus  of  old  the  cunning  artist 

Artist-like  his  glory  won. 

As  all  Nature's  thousand  changes 

But  one  changeless  God  proclaim ; 
So  in  Art's  wide  kingdoms  ranges 

One  sole  meaning  still  the  same: 
This  is  Truth,  eternal  Reason, 

Which  from  Beauty  takes  its  dress, 
And,  serene  through  time  and  season, 

Stands  for  aye  in  loveliness. 

While  the  orator,  the  singer, 

Pour  their  hearts  in  rhyme  and  prose, 
'Neath  the  painter's  busy  linger 

Shall  bloom  forth  Life's  cheerful  rose, 
Girt  with  sisters,  in  the  middle, 

And  with  Autumn's  fruitage  blent; 
That  of  life's  mysterious  riddle 

Some  short  glimpses  may  be  hent. 

Thousand-fold  and  graceful,  show  thou 

Form  from  forms  evolving  fair; 
And  of  man's  bright  image  know  thou 

That  a  God  once  tarried  there: 
And,  whate'er  your  tasks  or  prizes, 

Stand  as  brethren  one  and  all; 
While,  like  song,  sweet  incense  rises 

From  the  altar  at  your  call." 

All  this  Wilhelm  could  not  but  let  pass,  though  it  must 
have  seemed  paradoxical  enough,  and,  had  he  not  seen  it 
with  his  eyes,  might  even  have  appeared  impossible.  But 
now,  when  it  was  explained  and  pointed  out  to  him,  openly 
and  freely,  and  in  fair  sequence,  he  scarcely  needed  to  put 
any  further  question  on  the  subject.  However,  he  at  last 
addressed  his  conductor  as  follows  :  "  I  see  here  a  most  pru- 
dent provision  made  for  much  that  is  desirable  in  life  ;  but 
tell  me  further,  which  of  your  regions  exhibits  a  similar  at- 
tention to  dramatic  poetry,  and  where  could  I  instruct  my- 
self in  that  matter?  I  have  looked  round  over  all  your 


MINISTER'S   TRAVELS.  217 

edifices,  and  observed  none  that  seemed  destined  for  such  an 
object." 

"  In  reply  to  this  question,  we  must  not  hide  from  you, 
that,  in  our  whole  province,  there  is  no  such  edifice  to  be 
seen.  The  drama  presupposes  the  existence  of  an  idle  mul- 
titude, perhaps  even  of  a  populace  ;  and  no  such  class  finds 
harbor  with  us :  for  birds  of  that  feather,  when  they  do  not 
in  spleen  forsake  us  of  their  own  accord,  we  soon  take  care 
to  conduct  over  the  marches.  Doubt  not,  however,  that  in 
our  Institution,  so  universal  in  its  character,  this  point  was 
carefully  meditated ;  but  no  region  could  be  found  for  the 
purpose,  everywhere  some  important  scruple  came  in  the  way. 
Indeed,  who  among  our  pupils  could  readily  determine,  with 
pretended  mirth  or  hypocritical  sorrow,  to  excite  in  the  rest 
a  feeling  untrue  in  itself,  and  alien  to  the  moment,  for  the 
sake  of  calling  forth  an  always  dubious  satisfaction?  Such 
juggleries  we  reckoned  in  all  cases  dangerous,  and  could  not 
reconcile  with  our  earnest  objects." 

"  It  is  said,  however,"  answered  Wilhelm,  "  that  this  far- 
stretching  art  promotes  all  the  rest  of  whatever  sort." 

"  Nowise,"  answered  the  other :  "it  employs  the  rest,  but 
spoils  them.  I  do  not  blame  a  player  for  uniting  himself 
with  a  painter ;  but  the  painter,  in  such  society,  is  lost. 
"Without  any  conscience,  the  player  will  lay  hold  of  whatever 
art  or  life  presents  him,  and  use  it  for  his  fugitive  objects, 
indeed,  with  no  small  profit :  the  painter,  again,  who  could 
wish  in  return  to  extract  advantage  from  the  theatre,  will 
constantly  find  himself  a  loser  by  it ;  and  so  also  in  the  like 
case  will  the  musician.  The  combined  arts  appear  to  me 
like  a  family  of  sisters,  of  whom  the  greater  part  were  in- 
clined to  good  economy,  but  one  was  light-headed,  and  desir- 
ous to  appropriate  and  squander  the  whole  goods  and  chattels 
of  the  household.  The  theatre  is  this  wasteful  sister :  it  has 
an  ambiguous  origin,  which  in  no  case,  whether  as  art  or 
trade  or  amusement,  it  can  wholly  conceal." 

Wilhelm  cast  his  eyes  on  the  ground  with  a  deep  sigh  :  for 
all  that  he  had  enjoyed  or  suffered  on  the  stage  rose  at  once 
before  his  mind ;  and  he  blessed  the  good  men  who  were  wise 
enough  to  spare  their  pupils  such  pain,  and,  out  of  principle 
and  conviction,  to  banish  such  errors  from  their  sphere. 

His  attendant,  however,  did  not  leave  him  long  in  these 
meditations,  but  continued,  "  As  it  is  our  highest  and  holiest 
principle,  that  no  talent,  no  capacity,  be  misdirected,  we  can- 
not hide  from  ourselves,  that,  among  so  large  a  number,  here 


218  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

and  there  a  mimical  gift  will  sometimes  decidedly  come  to 
light ;  exhibiting  itself  in  an  irresistible  desire  to  ape  the 
characters,  forms,  movements,  speech,  of  others.  This  we 
certainly  do  not  encourage :  but  we  observe  our  pupil 
strictly ;  and,  if  he  continue  faithful  to  his  nature,  then  we 
have  already  established  an  intercourse  with  the  great 
theatres  of  all  nations ;  and  so  thither  we  send  any  youth 
of  tried  capability,  that,  as  the  duck  on  the  pond,  so  he  on 
the  boards,  may  be  forthwith  conducted,  full  speed,  to  the 
future  quack-quacking,  and  gibble-gabbling,  of  his  life." 

Wilhelm  heard  this  with  patience,  but  only  with  half  con- 
viction, perhaps  with  some  spleen :  for  so  strangely  is  man 
tempered,  that  he  may  be  persuaded  of  the  worthlessness  of 
any  darling  object,  may  turn  away  from  it,  nay,  even  exe- 
crate it,  but  j'et  will  not  see  it  treated  in  this  way  by  others  ; 
and  perhaps  the  spirit  of  Contradiction,  which  dwells  in  all 
men,  never  rouses  itself  more  vehemently  and  stoutly  than 
in  such  cases. 

And  the  editor  of  these  sheets  may  himself  confess  that  he 
lets  not  this  strange  passage  through  his  hands  without  some 
touch  of  auger.  Has  not  he,  too,  in  many  senses,  expended 
more  life  and  faculty  than  was  right  on  the  theatre?  And 
would  these  men  convince  him  that  this  has  been  an  unpar- 
donable error,  a  fruitless  toil? 

But  we  have  no  time  for  appending,  in  splenetic  mood, 
such  remembrances  and  after-feelings  to  the  narrative ;  for 
our  friend  now  finds  himself  agreeably  surprised,  as  one  of 
the  Three,  and  this  a  particularly  prepossessing  one,  again 
comes  before  his  eyes.  Kind,  open  meekness,  announcing 
the  purest  peace  of  soul,  came  in  its  refreshing  effluences 
along  with  him.  Trustfully  the  wanderer  could  approach, 
and  feel  his  trust  returned. 

Here  he  now  learned  that  the  chief  was  at  present  in  the 
sanctuary,  instructing,  teaching,  blessing ;  while  the  Three 
had  separated  to  visit  all  the  regions,  and  everywhere,  after 
most  thorough  information  obtained,  and  conferences  with 
the  subordinate  overseers,  to  forward  what  was  in  progress, 
to  found  what  was  newly  planned,  and  thereby  faithfully  dis- 
charge their  high  dutj'. 

This  same  excellent  person  now  gave  him  a  more  compre- 
hensive view  of  their  internal  situation  and  external  connec- 
tions ;  explained  to  him  the  mutual  influences  of  one  region 
on  another ;  and  also  by  what  steps,  after  a  longer  or  a 
shorter  date,  a  pupil  could  be  transferred  from  the  one  to 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  219 

the  other.  All  this  harmonized  completely  with  what  he 
already  knew.  At  the  same  time  he  was  much  gratified  by 
the  description  given  of  his  son,  and  their  further  plan  of 
education  met  with  his  entire  approval. 

He  was  now,  by  the  assistants  and  overseer,  invited  to  a 
miners'  festival,  which  was  forthwith  to  be  celebrated.  The 
ascent  of  the  mountains  was  difficult ;  and  Wilhelm  fancied 
he  observed  that  his  guide  walked  even  slower  towards  even- 
ing, as  if  the  darkness  had  not  been  likely  to  obstruct  their 
path  still  more.  But,  when  deep  night  came  round  them,  this 
enigma  was  solved :  our  wanderer  observed  little  flames  come 
glimmering  and  wavering  forth  from  many  dells  and  chasms, 
gradually  stretch  themselves  into  lines,  and  roll  over  the  sum- 
mits of  the  mountains.  Much  kindlier  than  when  a  volcano 
opens,  and  its  belching  roar  threatens  whole  countries  with 
destruction,  did  this  fair  light  appear ;  and  yet,  by  degrees, 
it  glowed  with  new  brightness  ;  grew  stronger,  broader,  more 
continuous  ;  glittered  like  a  stream  of  stars,  soft  and  lovely 
indeed,  yet  spreading  boldly  over  all  the  scene. 

After  the  attendant  had  a  little  while  enjoyed  the  surprise 
of  his  guest,  —  for  they  could  clearly  enough  observe  each 
other,  their  faces  and  forms,  as  well  as  their  path,  being  illu- 
minated by  the  light  from  the  distance,  —  he  began,  "  You 
see  here,  in  truth,  a  curious  spectacle :  these  lights  which, 
day  and  night,  the  whole  year  over,  gleam  and  work  under 
ground,  forwarding  the  acquisition  of  concealed  and  scarcely 
attainable  treasures,  these  now  mount  and  well  forth  from 
their  abysses,  and  gladden  the  upper  night.  Scarcely  could 
one  anywhere  enjoy  so  brave  a  review  as  here,  where  this  most 
useful  occupation,  which,  in  its  subterranean  concealment,  is 
dispersed  and  hidden  from  the  eye,  rises  before  us  in  its  full 
completeness,  and  bespeaks  a  great  secret  combination." 

Amid  such  speeches  and  thoughts  they  had  reached  the 
spot  where  these  fire-brooks  poured  themselves  into  a  sea  of 
flame  surrounding  a  well-lighted  insular  space.  The  wan- 
derer placed  himself  in  the  dazzling  circle,  within  which  glit- 
tering lights  by  thousands  formed  an  imposing  contrast  with 
the  miners,  ranked  round  it  like  a  dark  wall.  Forthwith 
arose  the  gayest  music  as  accompaniment  to  becoming  songs. 
Hollow  masses  of  rock  came  forward  on  machinery,  and 
opened  a  resplendent  interior  to  the  eye  of  the  delighted 
spectator.  Mimetic  exhibitions,  and  whatever  else  at  such  a 
moment  can  gratify  the  multitude,  combined  with  all  this  at 
once  to  excite  and  to  satisfy  a  cheerful  attention. 


220  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

But  with  what  astonishment  was  Wilhelm  filled  when,  on 
being  introduced  to  the  superiors,  he  observed  friend  Jarno 
in  solemn,  stately  robes  among  the  number.  "  Not  in  vain," 
cried  Jarno,  "-have  I  changed  my  former  name  with  the 
more  expressive  title  of  Montan  :  thou  findest  me  here  initi- 
ated in  mountain  and  cave ;  and  now,  if  questioned,  1  could 
disclose  and  explain  to  thee  much  that  a  year  ago  was  still  a 
riddle  to  myself." 

At  this  point  our  manuscripts  forsake  us  :  of  the  conver- 
sation of  these  friends  there  is  nothing  specified ;  as  little 
can  we  discover  the  connection  of  what  follows  next,  —  an 
incident  of  which  in  the  same  bundle,  in  the  same  paper,  we 
find  brief  notice :  That  a  meeting  had  taken  place  between 
our  wanderer  and  Lothario  and  the  abb£.  Unhappily,  in  this, 
as  in  so  many  other  leaves,  the  date  has  been  neglected. 

Some  passages,  introduced  rather  in  the  way  of  exclama- 
tion than  of  narrative,  point  to  the  high  meaning  of  renun- 
ciation, by  which  alone  the  first  real  entrance  into  life  is 
conceivable.  Then  we  come  upon  a  map,  marked  with  sev- 
eral arrows  pointing  towards  one  another;  and  along  with 
this  we  find,  in  a  certain  sequence,  several  days  of  the  month 
written  down  :  so  that  we  might  fancy  ourselves  again  walk- 
ing in  the  real  world,  and  moderately  certain  as  to  the  next 
part  of  our  friend's  route,  were  it  not  that  here  also  various 
marks  and  ciphers,  appended  in  different  ways,  awoke  some 
fear  that  a  secret  meaning  at  the  bottom  of  it  would  forever 
lie  hid  from  us. 

But  what  drives  us  out  of  all  historical  composure  is  the 
strange  circumstance,  that,  immediately  on  all  this,  there 
comes  in  the  most  improbable  narration,  of  a  sort  like  those 
tales  whereby  you  long  keep  the  hearer's  curiosity  on  the 
stretch  with  a  series  of  wonders,  and  at  last  explain,  That 
you  were  talking  of  a  dream.  However,  we  shall  communi- 
cate without  change  what  lies  before  us :  — 

"  If  hitherto  we  had  continued  in  the  metalliferous  part  of 
the  mountains,  which,  externally,  is  soft,  and  by  no  means 
of  a  wild  aspect,  I  was  now  conducted  through  precipitous 
and  scarcely  passable  rocks  and  chasms  :  at  last  I  gained  the 
topmost  summit,  —  a  cliff,  the  peak  of  which  afforded  room 
only  for  a  single  person,  who,  if  he  looked  down  from  it 
into  the  horrid  depth,  might  see  furious  mountain  torrents 
foaming  through  black  abysses.  In  the  present  case  I  looked 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  221 

down  without  giddiness  or  terror,  for  I  was  light  of  heart ; 
but  now  my  attention  fixed  itself  on  some  huge  crags  rising 
opposite  me,  precipitous  like  my  own,  yet  offering  on  their 
summits  a  larger  space  of  level.  Though  parted  by  a  mon- 
strous chasm,  the  jutting  masses  came  so  near  together  that 
I  could  distinctly  enough,  with  the  naked  eye,  observe  sev- 
eral persons  assembled  on  the  summit.  They  were,  for  most 
part,  ladies,  one  of  whom,  coming  forward  to  the  very 
verge,  awakened  in  me  double  and  treble  anxiety ;  as  I  be- 
came completely  convinced  that  it  was  Natalia  herself.  The 
danger  of  such  an  unexpected  interview  increased  every 
moment ;  but  it  grew  boundless  when  a  perspective  came 
before  my  eyes,  and  brought  me  over  to  her,  and  her  over  to 
me.  There  is  something  magical  at  all  times  in  perspectives. 
Were  we  not  accustomed  from  youth  to  look  through  them, 
we  should  shudder  and  tremble  every  time  we  put  them  to 
our  eyes.  It  is  we  who  are  looking,  and  it  is  not  we :  a 
being  it  is  whose  organs  are  raised  to  a  higher  pitch,  whose 
limitations  are  done  away,  who  has  become  entitled  to 
stretch  forth  into  infinitude. 

"When,  for  example,  we  observe  far-distant  persons,  by 
means  of  such  an  instrument,  and  see  them  in  unsuspicious 
thoughtlessness  following  their  business  as  if  they  were 
solitary  and  unwatched,  we  could  almost  feel  afraid  lest  they 
might  discover  us,  and  indignantly  upbraid  us  for  our  treach- 
erous curiosity. 

"And  so  likewise  did  I,  hemmed  in  by  a  strange  feeling, 
waver  between  proximity  and  distance,  and  from  instant  to 
instant  alternate  between  the  two. 

"  Those  others  in  their  turn  had  observed  us,  as  a  signal 
with  a  white  handkerchief  put  beyond  a  doubt.  For  a  mo- 
ment I  delayed  in  my  answer  to  it,  finding  myself  thus  close 
beside  the  being  whom  I  adored.  This  is  her  pure,  benign 
form :  these  are  her  taper  arms,  which  once  so  helpfully  ap- 
peared before  me,  after  unblessed  sorrows  and  perplexities, 
and  at  last,  too,  though  but  for  moments,  sympathizingly 
embraced  me. 

"  I  saw  distinctly  enough  that  she,  too,  had  a  perspective, 
and  was  looking  over  to  me ;  and  I  failed  not,  by  such 
tokens  as  stood  at  my  command,  to  express  the  profession  of 
a  true  and  heartfelt  attachment. 

"  And  as  experience  teaches  that  remote  objects,  which  we 
have  once  clearly  recognized  through  a  perspective,  after- 
wards appear,  even  to  the  naked  eye,  as  if  standing  shaped 


222  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

in  distinct  nearness,  be  it  that  more  accurate  knowledge 
sharpens  the  sense,  or  that  imagination  supplies  what  is 
wanting  ;  so  now  did  I  see  this  beloved  being  as  accuratel}' 
and  distinctly  as  if  I  could  have  touched  her,  though  her 
company  continued  still  irrecognizable.  And  as  I  was 
trampling  round  my  narrow  station,  struggling  towards  her 
the  more,  the  abyss  was  like  to  swallow  me,  had  not  a  help- 
ful hand  laid  hold  of  mine,  and  snatched  me  at  once  from 
my  danger  and  my  fairest  happiness." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HERE  at  last  we  again  step  on  firmer  ground,  the  localities 
of  which  we  can  settle  with  some  probability ;  though  still 
here  and  there  on  our  way  there  occur  a  few  uncertainties, 
which  it  is  not  in  our  power  altogether  to  clear  up. 

As  Wilhelm,  in  order  to  reach  any  point  of  the  line  marked 
out  by  the  first  arrow,  had  to  proceed  obliquely  through  the 
country,  he  found  himself  necessitated  to  perform  the  jour- 
ney on  foot,  leaving  his  luggage  to  be  carried  after  him. 
For  this  walk  of  his,  however,  he  was  richly  rewarded ;  meet- 
ing at  every  step,  quite  unexpectedly,  with  loveliest  tracts  of 
scenery.  They  were  of  that  sort  which  the  last  slope  of  a 
mountain  region  forms  in  its  meeting  with  the  plain  country ; 
bushy  hills,  their  soft  declivities  employed  in  domestic  use  ; 
all  level  spaces  green ;  nowhere  aught  steep,  unfruitful,  or 
uuploughed  to  be  noticed.  Erelong  he  reached  the  main 
valley,  into  which  the  side-waters  flowed  ;  and  this,  too,  was 
carefully  cultivated,  graceful  when  you  looked  over  it,  with 
taper  trees  marking  the  bends  of  the  river,  and  of  the  brooks 
which  poured  into  it.  On  looking  at  his  map,  his  indicator, 
he  observed  with  surprise  that  the  line  drawn  for  him  cut 
directly  through  this  valley ;  so  that,  in  the  first  place,  he 
was  at  least  on  the  right  road. 

An  old  castle,  in  good  repair,  and  seemingly  built  at  differ- 
ent periods,  stood  forth  on  a  bushy  hill,  at  the  foot  of  which 
a  gay  hamlet  stretched  along,  with  its  large  inn  rising  promi- 
nent among  the  other  houses.  Hither  he  proceeded,  and 
was  received  by  the  landlord  kindly  enough,  yet  with  an  ex- 
cuse that  he  could  not  be  admitted,  unless  by  the  permission 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  223 

of  a  party  who  had  hired  the  whole  establishment  for  a  time  ; 
on  which  account  he,  the  landlord,  was  under  the  necessity 
of  sending  all  his  guests  to  the  older  inn,  which  lay  farther 
up  the  hamlet.  After  a  short  conference,  the  man  seemed 
to  bethink  himself,  and  said,  "  Indeed,  there  is  no  one  of 
them  at  home  even  now :  but  this  is  Saturday,  and  the 
bailiff  will  not  fail  to  be  here  soon  ;  he  comes  every  week  to 
settle  the  accounts  of  the  last,  and  make  arrangements  for 
the  next.  Truly,  there  is  a  fair  order  reigns  among  these 
men,  and  a  pleasure  in  having  to  do  with  them,  though  they 
are  strict  enough ;  for,  if  they  yield  one  no  great  profit,  it  is 
sure  and  constant."  He  then  desired  his  new  guest  to 
amuse  himself  in  the  large  upper  hall,  and  await  what  further 
might  occur. 

Here  Wilhelm,  on  entering,  found  a  large,  clean  apart- 
ment, except  for  benches  and  tables  altogether  empty.  So 
much  the  more  was  he  surprised  to  see  a  large  tablet  inserted 
above  one  of  the  doors,  with  these  words  marked  on  it  in . 
golden  letters,  Ubi  homines  sunt  modisunt;  which  in  modern 
tongue  may  signify,  that,  where  men  combine  in  society,  the 
way  and  manner  in  which  they  like  to  be  and  to  continue 
together  is  directly  established.  This  .motto  made  our 
wanderer  think :  he  took  it  as  a  good  omen  ;  finding  here, 
expressed  and  confirmed,  a  principle  which  he  had  often,  in 
the  course  of  life,  perceived  for  himself  to  be  furthersome 
and  reasonable.  He  had  not  waited  long  when  the  bailiff 
made  his  appearance ;  who,  being  forewarned  by  the  landlord, 
after  a  short  conversation,  and  no  very  special  scrutiny,  ad- 
mitted Wilhelm  on  the  following  terms :  To  continue  three 
days  ;  to  participate  quietly  in  whatever  should  occur ;  and, 
happen  what  might,  to  ask  no  questions  about  the  reason ; 
and,  at  taking  leave,  to  ask  none  about  the  score.  All  this 
our  traveller  was  obliged  to  comply  with,  the  deputy  not  be- 
ing allowed  to  yield  in  a  single  point. 

The  bailiff  was  about  retiring,  when  a  sound  of  vocal 
music  rolled  up  the  stairs :  two  pretty  young  men  entered 
singing ;  and  these  the  bailiff,  by  a  simple  sign,  gave  to 
understand  that  their  guest  was  accepted.  Without  inter- 
rupting their  song,  they  kindly  saluted  the  stranger,  and 
continued  their  duet  with  the  finest  grace ;  showing  clearly 
enough  that  they  were  well  trained,  and  complete  masters  of 
their  art.  As  Wilhelm  testified  the  most  attentive  interest, 
they  paused,  and  inquired,  If  in  his  own  pedestrian  wander- 
ings no  song  ever  occurred  to  him,  which  he  went  along 


224  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

singing  by  himself?  "A  good  voice,"  answered  Wilhelm, 
"  Nature  has  in  truth  denied  me:  yet  I  often  feel  as  if  a 
secret  Genius  were  whispering  some  rhythmic  words  in  my 
ear ;  so  that,  in  walking,  I  move  to  musical  measure  ;  fancy- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  that  I  hear  low  tones  accompanying 
some  song,  which,  in  one  way  or  another,  has  pleasantly 
risen  before  me." 

"  If  you  recollect  such  a  song,  write  it  down  for  us,"  said 
they :  "we  shall  see  if  we  have  skill  to  accompany  your 
singing-demon."  He  took  a  leaf  from  his  note-book,  and 
handed  them  the  following  lines :  — 

"  From  the  mountains  to  the  champaign, 

By  the  glens  and  hills  along, 
Comes  a  rustling  and  a  tramping, 

Comes  a  motion  as  of  song  ; 
And  this  undetermined  roving 

Brings  delight,  and  brings  good  heed: 
And  thy  striving,  be  't  with  loving, 

And  thy  living,  be  't  in  deed! " 

After  brief  study,  there  arose  at  once  a  gay,  marching 
melody,  which,  in  its  repetition  and  restriction  still  stepping 
forward,  hurried  on  the  hearer  with  it :  he  was  in  doubt 
whether  this  was  his  own  tune,  his  former  theme,  or  one 
now  for  the  first  time  so  fitted  to  the  words,  that  no  other 
movement  was  conceivable.  The  singers  had  for  some  time 
pleasantly  proceeded  in  this  manner,  when  two  stout  young 
fellows  came  in,  whom,  by  their  accoutrements,  you  directly 
recognized  as  masons  ;  two  others,  who  followed  them,  being 
as  evidently  carpenters.  These  four,  softly  laying  down 
their  tools,  listened  to  the  music,  and  soon  struck  in  with 
sure  and  decided  voices  ;  so  that  to  the  mind  it  seemed  as  if 
a  real  wayfaring  company  were  stepping  along  over  hill  and 
valley :  and  Wilhelm  thought  he  had  never  heard  anything  so 
graceful,  so  enlivening  to  heart  and  mind.  This  enjoyment, 
however,  was  to  be  increased  yet  further,  and  raised  to  the 
highest  pitch,  by  the  entrance  of  a  gigantic  figure,  mounting 
the  stairs  with  a  hard,  firm  tread,  which,  with  all  his  efforts, 
he  could  scarcely  moderate.  A  heavy-laden  dorsel  he  directly 
placed  in  the  corner :  himself  he  seated  on  a  bench,  which 
beginning  to  creak  under  his  weight,  the  others  laughed,  yet 
without  going  wrong  in  their  music.  Wilhelm,  however,  was 
exceedingly  surprised,  when,  with  a  huge  bass  voice,  this 
son  of  Anak  joined  in  also.  The  hall  quivered ;  and  it 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  225 

was  to  be  observed,  that  in  his  part  he  altered  the  burden, 
and  sang  it  thus :  — 

"Life  's  no  resting,  but  a  moving: 
Let  thy  life  be  deed  on  deed!" 

Further,  you  could  very  soon  perceive  that  he  was  drawing 
down  the  time  to  a  slower  step,  and  forcing  the  rest  to  follow 
him.  Of  this,  when  at  last  they  were  satisfied  and  had  con- 
cluded, they  accused  him ;  declaring  he  had  tried  to  set  them 
wrong. 

"  Not  at  all !  "  cried  he  :  "it  is  you  who  tried  to  set  me 
wrong,  to  put  me  out  of  my  own  step,  which  must  be  meas- 
ured and  sure,  if  I  am  to  walk  with  my  loading  up  hill  and 
down  dale,  and  yet,  in  the  end,  arrive  at  my  appointed  hour, 
to  satisfy  your  wants." 

One  after  the  other  these  persons  now  passed  into  an  ad- 
joining room  to  the  bailiff,  and  Wilhelm  easily  observed  that 
they  were  occupied  in  settling  accounts,  —  a  point,  however, 
as  to  which  he  was  not  allowed  at  present  to  inquire  further. 
Two  fair,  lively  boys  in  the  mean  while  entered,  and  began 
covering  a  table  in  all  speed,  moderately  furnishing  it  with 
meat  and  wine  ;  and  the  bailiff,  coming  out,  invited  them  all 
to  sit  down  along  with  him.  The  boys  waited,  yet  forgot 
not  their  own  concern,  but  enjoyed  their  share  in  a  standing 
posture.  Wilhelm  recollected  witnessing  similar  scenes  dur- 
ing his  abode  among  the  players ;  yet  the  present  company 
seemed  to  be  of  a  much  more  serious  cast,  constituted,  not 
out  of  sport,  for  show,  but  with  a  view  to  important  concerns 
of  life. 

The  conversation  of  the  craftsmen  with  the  bailiff  added 
strength  to  this  conviction.  These  four  active  young  people, 
it  appeared,  were  busy  in  the  neighborhood,  where  a  violent 
conflagration  had  destroyed  the  fairest  village  in  the  country  ; 
nor  did  Wilhelm  fail  to  learn  that  the  worthy  bailiff  was  em- 
ployed in  getting  timber  and  other  building  materials :  all 
which  looked  the  more  enigmatical,  as  none  of  these  persons 
seemed  to  be  resident  here,  but  in  all  other  points  announced 
themselves  as  transitory  strangers.  By  way  of  conclusion 
to  the  meal,  St.  Christopher  —  such  was  the  name  they  gave 
the  giant  —  brought  out,  for  good-night,  a  dainty  glass  of 
wine,  which  had  before  been  set  aside :  a  gay  choral  song 
kept  the  party  still  some  time  together,  after  they  were  out 
of  sight ;  and  then  Wilhelm  was  at  last  conducted  to  a  chain- 


226  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

ber  of  the  loveliest  aspect  and  situation.  The  full  moon,  en- 
lightening a  rich  plain,  was  already  up ;  and  in  the  bosom 
of  our  wanderer  it  awoke  remembrances  of  similar  scenes. 
The  spirits  of  all  dear  friends  hovered  past  him :  especially 
the  image  of  Lenardo  rose  in  him  so  vividly,  that  he  might 
have  fancied  the  man  himself  was  standing  before  his  eyes. 
All  this  had  prepared  him  with  its  kind  influences  for  nightly 
rest,  when,  on  a  sudden,  there  arose  a  tone  of  so  strange  a 
nature,  that  it  almost  frightened  him.  It  sounded  as  from 
a  distance,  and  yet  seemed  to  be  in  the  house  itself ;  for  the 
building  quivered  many  times,  and  the  floors  reverberated 
when  the  sound  rose  to  its  highest  pitch.  Wilhelm,  though 
his  ear  was  usually  delicate  in  discriminating  tones,  could 
make  nothing  of  this :  he  compared  it  to  the  droning  roar  of 
a  huge  organ-pipe,  which,  for  sheer  compass,  produces  no 
determinate  note.  Whether  this  nocturnal  terror  passed  away 
towards  morning,  or  Wilhelm  by  degrees  became  accustomed 
to  the  sound,  and  no  longer  heeded  it,  is  difficult  to  discover : 
at  any  rate,  he  fell  asleep,  and  was  in  due  time  pleasantly 
awakened  by  the  rising  sun. 

Scarcely  had  one  of  the  boys,  who  were  in  waiting,  brought 
him  breakfast,  when  a  figure  entered,  whom  he  had  already 
noticed  last  night  at  supper,  without  clearly  ascertaining  his 
quality.  A  well- formed,  broad-shouldered,  yet  nimble  man, 
who  now,  by  the  implements  which  he  spread  out,  announced 
himself  as  barber,  and  forthwith  prepared  for  performing  his 
much-desired  office  on  Wilhelm.  For  the  rest,  he  was  quite 
silent ;  and  with  a  light  hand  he  went  through  his  task,  with- 
out once  having  opened  his  lips.  Wilhelm,  therefore,  began, 
and  said,  "Of  your  art  you  are  completely  master,  and  I 
know  not  that  I  have  ever  had  a  softer  razor  on  my  cheeks  : 
at  the  same  time,  however,  you  appear  to  be  a  strict  observer 
of  the  laws  of  the  society." 

Roguishly  smiling,  laying  his  finger  on  his  lips,  the  taciturn 
shaver  glided  through  the  door.  "By  my  sooth!"  cried 
Wilhelm  after  him,  "I  think  you  must  be  old  Redcloak;  if 
not  himself,  at  least  a  descendant  of  his  :  it  is  lucky  for  you 
that  you  ask  no  counter  service  of  me  ;  your  turn  would  have 
been  but  sorrily  done." 

No  sooner  had  this  curi9us  personage  retired  than  the  well- 
known  bailiff  came  in,  inviting  our  friend  to  dinner  for  this 
day,  in  words  which  sounded  pretty  strange :  the  BOXD,  so 
said  the  speaker,  expressly,  gave  the  stranger  welcome,  re- 
quested his  company  at  dinner,  and  took  pleasure  in  the 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  227 

hope  of  being  more  closely  connected  with  him.  Inquiries 
were  then  made  as  to  the  guest's  health,  and  how  he  was 
contented  with  his  entertainment ;  to  all  which  he  could  only 
answer  in  terms  of  satisfaction.  He  would,  in  truth,  have 
liked  much  to  ask  of  this  man,  as  previously  of  the  silent 
barber,  some  information  touching  the  horrid  sound  which 
throughout  the  night  had,  if  not  tormented,  at  least  discom- 
posed him :  but,  mindful  of  his  engagement,  he  forbore  all 
questions  ;  hoping,  that  without  importunity,  from  the  good 
will  of  the  society,  or  in  some  other  accidental  way,  he 
might  be  informed  according  to  his  wishes. 

Our  friend  now,  when  left  alone,  began  to  reflect  on  the 
strange  person  who  had  sent  him  this  invitation,  and  knew 
not  well  what  to  make  of  the  matter.  To  designate  one  or 
more  superiors  by  a  neuter  noun  seemed  to  him  a  somewhat 
precarious  mode  of  speech.  For  the  rest,  there  was  such  a 
stillness  all  round  that  he  could  not  recollect  of  ever  having 
passed  a  stiller  Sunday.  He  went  out  of  doors,  and,  hear- 
ing a  sound  of  bells,  walked  towards  the  village.  Mass  was 
just  over ;  and,  among  the  villagers  and  country  people 
crowding  out  of  church,  he  observed  three  acquaintances  of 
last  night,  — a  mason,  a  carpenter,  and  a  boy.  Farther  on  he 
met  among  the  Protestant  worshippers  the  other  correspond- 
ing three.  How  the  rest  managed  their  devotion  was  un- 
known to  him  ;  but  so  much  he  thought  himself  entitled  to 
conclude,  that  in  this  society  a  full  religious  toleration  was 
practised. 

About  mid-day,  at  the  castle-gate,  he  was  met  by  the 
bailiff,  who  then  conducted  him  through  various  halls  into 
a  large  ante-chamber,  and  there  desired  him  to  take  a  seat. 
Many  persons  passed  through  into  an  adjoining  hall.  Those 
already  known  were  to  be  seen  among  them ;  St.  Christopher 
himself  went  by :  all  saluted  the  bailiff  and  the  stranger. 
But  what  struck  our  friend  most  in  this  affair  was,  that  the 
whole  party  seemed  to  consist  of  artisans,  all  dressed  in 
the  usual  fashion,  though  extremely  neat  and  clean :  a  few 
among  the  number  you  might  at  most,  perhaps,  have  reckoned 
of  the  clerk  species. 

No  more  guests  now  making  their  appearance,  the  bailiff 
led  our  friend  through  the  stately  door  into  a  spacious  hall. 
Here  a  table  of  immense  length  had  been  covered,  past  the 
lower  end  of  which  he  was  conducted  towards  the  head,  where 
he  saw  three  persons  standing  in  a  cross  direction;  But  what 
was  his  astonishment  when  he  approached,  and  Lenardo, 


228  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

scarcely  yet  recognized,  fell  upon  his  neck.  From  this  sur- 
prise he  had  not  recovered  when  another  person,  with  no  less 
warmth  and  vivacity,  likewise  embraced  him ;  announcing 
himself  as  our  strange  Friedrich,  Natalia's  brother.  The 
rapture  of  these  friends  diffused  itself  over  all  present :  an 
exclamation  of  joy  and  blessing  sounded  along  the  whole 
table.  But  in  a  moment,  the  company  being  seated,  all  again 
became  silent ;  and  the  repast,  served  up  with  a  certain  so- 
lemnity, was  enjoyed  in  like  manner. 

Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony  Lenardo  gave  a 
sign :  two  singers  rose,  and  Wilhelm  was  exceedingly  sur- 
prised to  hear  in  this  place  his  yesternight's  song ;  which 
we,  for  the  sake  of  what  follows,  shall  beg  permission  to 
insert  once  more :  — 

"  From  the  mountains  to  the  champaign, 

By  the  glens  and  hills  along, 
Comes  a  rustling  and  a  trampiug, 

Comes  a  motion  as  of  song; 
And  this  undetermined  roving 

Brings  delight,  and  brings  good  heed: 
And  thy  striving,  be  't  with  loving, 

And  thy  living,  be't  in  deed!" 

Scarcely  had  this  duet,  accompanied  by  a  chorus  of  agree- 
able number,  approached  its  conclusion,  when  two  other 
singers  on  the  opposite  side  started  up  impetuously,  and, 
with  earnest -vehemence,  inverted  rather  than  continued  the 
song ;  to  Wilhelm's  astonishment,  proceeding  thus  :  — 

"For  the  tie  is  snapped  asunder, 

Trust  and  loving  hope  are  fled ! 
Can  I  tell,  in  fear  and  wonder, 

With  what  dangers  now  bested? 
I,  cut  off  from  friend  and  brother, 

Like  the  widow  in  her  woe, 
With  the  one  and  not  the  other, 

On  and  on,  my  way  must  go !  " 

The  chorus,  taking  up  this  strophe,  grew  more  and  more 
numerous,  more  and  more  vociferous ;  and  yet  the  voice  of 
St.  Christopher,  from  the  bottom  of  the  table,  could  still  be 
distinctly  recognized  among  them.  The  lamentation  in  the 
end  rose  almost  to  be  frightful :  a  spirit  of  dispiritment, 
combining  with  the  skilful  execution  of  the  singers,  intro- 
duced something  unnatural  into  the  whole  ;  so  that  it  pained 
our  friend,  and  almost  made  him  shudder.  In  truth,  they  all 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  229 

seemed  perfectly  of  one  mind,  and  as  if  lamenting  their  own 
fate  on  the  eve  of  a  separation.  The  strange  repetitions,  the 
frequent  resuscitation  of  a  fatiguing  song,  at  length  became 
dangerous  in  the  eyes  of  the  Bond  itself :  Lenardo  rose  ;  and 
all  instantly  sat  down,  abruptly  breaking  off  their  hymn. 
The  other,  with  friendly  words,  thus  began  :  — 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  blame  you  for  continually  recalling  to 
your  minds  the  destiny  which  stands  before  us  all,  that  so, 
at  any  hour,  you  may  be  ready  for  it.  If  aged  and  life- 
weary  men  have  called  to  their  neighbors,  Think  of  dying ! 
we  younger  and  life-loving  men  may  well  keep  encouraging 
and  reminding  one  another  with  the  cheerful  words,  Think 
of  wandering !  Yet,  withal,  of  a  thing  which  we  either  vol- 
untarily undertake,  or  believe  ourselves  constrained  to,  it 
were  well  to  speak  with  cheerfulness  and  moderation.  You 
yourselves  know  best  what,  in  our  situation,  is  fixed,  and 
what  is  movable :  let  us  enjoy  the  former,  too,  in  sprightly 
and  gay  tones ;  and  to  its  success  be  this  parting  cup  now 
drunk!"  He  emptied  his  glass  and  sat  down:  the  four 
singers  instantly  rose,  and  in  flowing,  connected  tones,  thus 
began :  — 

"  Keep  not  standing,  fixed  and  rooted, 

Briskly  venture,  briskly  roam : 
Head  and  hand,  where'er  thou  foot  it, 

And  stout  heart,  are  still  at  home. 
In  each  land  the  sun  does  visit: 

We  are  gay  whate'er  betide. 
To  give  room  for  wand' ring  is  it 

That  the  world  was  made  so  wide." 

As  the  chorus  struck  in  with  its  repetition  of  these  lines, 
Lenardo  rose,  with  him  all  the  rest.  His  nod  set  the  whole 
company  into  singing  movement:  those  at  the  lower  end 
marched  out,  St.  Christopher  at  their  head,  in  pairs  through 
the  hall ;  and  the  uplifted  wanderers'  song  grew  clearer  and 
freer  the  farther  they  proceeded ;  producing  at  last  a  partic- 
ularly good  effect  when  from  the  terraces  of  the  castle  garden 
you  looked  down  over  the  broad  valley,  in  whose  fulness  and 
beauty  3-011  might  well  have  liked  to  lose  yourself.  While 
the  multitude  were  dispersing  this  way  and  that,  according 
to  their  pleasure,  Wilhelm  was  made  acquainted  with  the 
third  superior.  This  was  the  Amtmann,  by  whose  kind  in- 
fluence many  favors  had  been  done  the  society  ;  in  particular, 
the  castle  of  his  patron,  the  count,  situated  among  several 
families  of  rank,  had  been  given  up  to  their  use  so  long  as 
they  might  think  fit  to  tarry  here. 


230  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

Towards  evening,  while  the  friends  were  in  a  far-seeing 
grove,  there  came  a  portly  figure  over  the  threshold,  whom 
Wilhelm  at  once  recognized  as  the  barber  of  this  morning. 
To  a  low,  mute  bow  of  the  man,  Leuardo  answered,  "You 
now  come,  as  always,  at  the  right  season,  and  will  not  delay 
to  entertain  us  with  your  talent.  I  may  be  allowed,"  con- 
tinued he,  turning  towards  Wilhelm,  "to  give  you  some 
knowledge  of  our  society,  the  Bond  of  which  I  may  flatter 
myself  that  I  am.  No  one  enters  our  circle  unless  he  have 
some  talents  to  show,  which  may  contribute  to  the  use  or 
enjoyment  of  society  in  general.  This  man  is  an  excellent 
surgeon ;  of  his  skill  as  a  beard-artist  you  yourself  can  tes- 
tify :  for  these  reasons,  he  is  no  less  welcome  than  necessary 
to  us.  Now,  as  his  employment  usually  brings  with  it  a  great 
and  often  burdensome  garrulity,  he  has  engaged,  for  the  sake 
of  his  own  culture,  to  comply  with  a  certain  condition  ;  as, 
indeed,  every  one  that  means  to  live  with  us  must  agree  to 
constrain  himself  in  some  particular  point,  if  the  greater 
freedom  be  left  him  in  all  other  points.  Accordingly,  our 
barber  has  renounced  the  use  of  his  tongue,  in  so  far  as 
aught  common  or  casual  is  to  be  expressed  by  it :  but,  by 
this  means,  another  gift  of  speech  has  been  unfolded  in  him, 
which  acts  by  forethought,  cunningly  and  pleasurably ;  I 
mean  the  gift  of  narration. 

"  His  life  is  rich  in  wonderful  experiences,  which  he  used 
to  split  in  pieces,  babbling  of  them  at  wrong  times  ;  but  which 
he  now,  constrained  by  silence,  repeats  and  arranges  in  his 
quiet  thought.  This  also  his  power  of  imagination  now  for- 
wards, lending  life  and  movement  to  past  occurrences.  With 
no  common  art  and  skill,  he  can  relate  to  us  genuine  antique 
tales,  or  modern  stories  of  the  same  fabulous  cast ;  thereby, 
at  the  right  hour,  affording  us  a  most  pleasant  entertainment, 
when  I  loose  his  tongue  for  him,  —  which  I  now  do  ;  giving 
him,  at  the  same  time,  this  praise,  that,  in  the  considerable 
period  during  which  I  have  known  him,  he  has  never  once 
been  guilty  of  a  repetition.  I  cannot  but  hope,  that  in  the 
present  case,  for  love  and  respect  to  our  dear  guest,  he  will 
especially  distinguish  himself." 

A  sprightly  cheerfulness  spread  over  Redcloak's  face ;  and, 
without  delay,  he  began  speaking  as  follows. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  231 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    NEW   MELUSINA. 

"  RESPECTED  gentlemen !  Being  aware  that  preliminary 
speeches  and  introductions  are  not  much  to  your  taste,  I  shall 
without  further  talk  assure  you,  that,  in  the  present  instance, 
I  hope  to  fulfil  your  commission  moderately  well.  From  me 
has  many  a  true  history  gone  forth  already,  to  the  high  and 
universal  satisfaction  of  hearers ;  but  to-day  I  may  assert, 
that  I  have  one  to  tell  which  far  surpasses  the  former,  and 
which,  though  it  happened  to  me  several  years  ago,  still  dis- 
quiets me  in  recollecting  it,  nay,  still  gives  hope  of  some 
further  development. 

"  By  way  of  introduction,  let  me  confess,  that  I  have  not 
always  so  arranged  nry  scheme  of  life  as  to  be  certain  of  the 
next  period  in  it,  or  even  of  the  next  day.  In  my  youth, 
I  was  no  first-rate  economist,  and  often  found  myself  in 
manifold  perplexity.  At  one  time  I  undertook  a  journey, 
thinking  to  derive  good  profit  in  the  course  of  it ;  but  the 
scale  I  went  upon  was  too  liberal :  and  after  having  com- 
menced my  travel  with  extra-post,  and  then  prosecuted  it  for 
a  time  in  the  diligence,  I  at  last  found  myself  obliged  to  front 
the  end  of  it  on  foot. 

"Like  a  gay  young  blade,  it  had  been  from  of  old  my 
custom,  on  entering  any  inn,  to  look  round  for  the  landladj*, 
or  even  the  cook,  and  wheedle  myself  into  favor  with  her ; 
whereby,  for  most  part,  my  shot  was  somewhat  reduced. 

"  One  night  at  dusk,  as  I  was  entering  the  post-house  of 
a  little  town,  and  purposing  to  set  about  my  customary  opera- 
tions, there  came  a  fair  double-seated  coach  with  four  horses 
rattling  up  to  the  door  behind  me.  I  turned  round,  and 
observed  in  it  a  young  lady,  without  maid,  without  servants. 
I  hastened  to  open  the  carriage  for  her,  and  to  ask  if  I  could 
help  her  in  any  thing.  On  stepping  out,  a  fair  form  displayed 
itself ;  and  her  lovely  countenance,  if  you  looked  at  it  nar- 
rowly, was  adorned  with  a  slight  shade  of  sorrow.  I  again 
asked  if  there  was  aught  I  could  do  for  her.  '  Oh,  yes ! ' 
said  she,  '  if  you  will  lift  that  little  box  carefully,  which 
you  will  find  standing  on  the  seat,  and  bring  it  in  ;  but  I  beg 
very  much  of  you  to  carry  it  with  all  steadiness,  and  not  to 
move  or  shake  it  in  the  least.'  I  took  out  the  box  with 


232  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

great  care :  she  shut  the  coach-door ;  we  walked  up-stairs 
together,  and  she  told  the  servants  that  she  was  to  stay  here 
for  the  night. 

"  We  were  now  alone  in  the  chamber:  she  desired  me  to 
put  the  box  on  the  table,  which  was  standing  at  the  wall ; 
and  as,  by  several  of  her  movements,  I  observed  that  she 
wished  to  be  alone,  I  took  my  leave,  reverently  but  warmly 
kissing  her  hand. 

"  '  Order  supper  for  us  two,'  said  she  then  :  and  you  may 
well  conceive  with  what  pleasure  I  executed  the  commission  ; 
scarcely  deigning,  in  my  pride  of  heart,  to  cast  even  a  side- 
look  on  landlady  and  menials.  With  impatience  I  expected 
the  moment  that  was  to  lead  me  back  to  her.  Supper  was 
served :  we  took  our  seats  opposite  each  other ;  I  refreshed 
my  heart,  for  the  first  time  during  a  considerable  while,  with 
a  good  meal,  and  no  less  with  so  desirable  a  sight  beside 
me :  nay,  it  seemed  as  if  she  were  growing  fairer  and  fairer 
every  moment. 

"  Her  conversation  was  pleasant,  yet  she  carefully  waived 
whatever  had  reference  to  affection  and  love.  The  cloth  was 
removed :  I  still  lingered,  I  tried  all  sorts  of  manoeuvres  to 
get  near  her,  but  in  vain ;  she  kept  me  at  my  distance,  by 
a  certain  dignity  which  I  could  not  withstand :  nay,  against 
my  will,  I  had  to  part  from  her  at  a  rather  early  hour. 

' '  After  a  night  passed  in  waking  or  uurestf ully  dreaming, 
I  rose  early,  inquired  whether  she  had  ordered  horses  ;  and, 
learning  that  she  had  not,  I  walked  into  the  garden,  saw  her 
standing  dressed  at  the  window,  and  hastened  up  to  her. 
Here,  as  she  looked  so  fair,  and  fairer  than  ever,  love, 
roguery,  and  audacity  all  at  once  started  into  motion  within 
me  :  I  rushed  towards  her,  and  clasped  her  in  my  arms. 
'Angelic,  irresistible  being,'  cried  I,  'pardon!  but  it  is  im- 
possible ! '  —  With  incredible  dexterity  she  whisked  herself 
out  of  my  arms,  and  I  had  not  even  time  to  imprint  a  kiss 
on  her  cheek.  '  Forbear  such  outbreakings  of  a  sudden  fool- 
ish passion,'  said  she,  '  if  you  would  not  scare  away  a  happi- 
ness which  lies  close  beside  you,  but  which  cannot  be  laid 
hold  of  till  after  some  trials.' 

"  '  Ask  of  me  what  thou  pleasest,  angelic  spirit! '  cried  I, 
'but  do  not  drive  me  to  despair.'  She  answered,  with  a 
smile,  '  If  you  mean  to  devote  yourself  to  my  service,  hear 
the  terms.  I  am  come  hither  to  visit  a  lady  of  my  friends, 
and  with  her  I  purpose  to  continue  for  a  time :  in  the  mean 
while,  I  could  wish  that  my  carriage  and  this  box  were  taken 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  233 

forward.  Will  you  engage  with  it?  You  have  nothing  to 
do  but  carefully  to  lift  the  box  into  the  carriage  and  out, 
to  sit  down  beside  it,  and  punctually  take  charge  that  it  re- 
ceive no  harm.  When  you  enter  an  inn,  it  is  put  upon  a 
table,  in  a  chamber  by  itself,  in  which  you  must  neither  sit 
nor  sleep.  You  lock  the  chamber-door  with  this  key,  which 
will  open  and  shut  any  lock,  and  has  the  peculiar  property, 
that  no  lock  shut  by  it  can  be  opened  in  the  interim.' 

"I  looked  at  her;  I  felt  strangely  enough  at  heart;  I 
promised  to  do  all,  if  I  might  hope  to  see  her  soon,  and  if 
she  would  seal  this  hope  to  me  with  a  kiss.  She  did  so,  and 
from  that  moment  I  had  become  entirely  her  bondman.  I 
was  now  to  order  horses,  she  said.  We  settled  the  way 
I  was  to  take,  the  places  where  I  was  to  wait,  and  expect 
her.  She  at  last  pressed  a  purse  of  gold  into  my  hand,  and 
I  pressed  my  lips  on  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it  me.  She 
seemed  moved  at  parting ;  and,  for  me,  I  no  longer  knew 
what  I  was  doing  or  was  to  do. 

"  On  my  return  from  giving  my  orders,  I  found  the  room- 
door  locked.  I  directl}r  tried  my  master-key,  and  it  per- 
formed its  duty  perfectly.  The  door  flew  up  :  I  found  the 
chamber  empty,  only  the  box  standing  on  the  table  where  I 
had  laid  it. 

' '  The  carriage  drove  up  :  I  carried  the  box  carefully  down 
with  me,  and  placed  it  by  my  side.  The  hostess  asked,  '  But 
where  is  the  lady?'  A  child  answered,  'She  is  gone  into 
the  town.'  I  nodded  to  the  people,  and  rolled  off  in  triumph 
from  the  door  which  I  had  last  night  entered  with  dusty 
gaiters.  That  in  my  hours  of  leisure  I  diligently  meditated 
on  this  adventure,  counted  my  money,  laid  many  schemes, 
and  still  now  and  then  kept  glancing  at  the  box,  you  will 
readily  imagine.  I  posted  right  forward,  passed  several 
stages  without  alighting,  and  rested  not  till  I  had  reached  a 
considerable  town,  where  my  fair  one  had  appointed  me  to 
wait.  Her  commands  had  been  pointedly  obeyed,  —  the  box 
always  carried  to  a  separate  room,  and  two  wax  candles 
lighted  beside  it;  for  such,  also,  had  been  her  order.  I 
would  then  lock  the  chamber,  establish  myself  in  my  own, 
and  take  such  comfort  as  the  place  afforded. 

"  For  a  while  I  was  able  to  employ  myself  with  thinking 
of  her,  but  by  degrees  the  time  began  to  hang  heavy  on  my 
hands.  I  was  not  used  to  live  without  companions  :  these  I 
soon  found,  at  tables-d'hdte,  in  coffee-houses,  and  public 
places,  altogether  to  my  wish.  In  such  a  mode  of  living,  my 


234  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

mone}'  began  to  melt  away ;  and  one  night  it  vanished  en- 
tirely from  my  purse  in  a  fit  of  passionate  gaming,  which  I 
had  not  had  the  prudence  to  abandon.  Void  of  money, 
with  the  appearance  of  a  rich  man,  expecting  a  heavy  bill 
of  charges,  uncertain  whether  and  when  my  fair  one  would 
again  make  her  appearance,  I  felt  myself  in  the  deepest  em- 
barrassment. Doubly  did  I  now  long  for  her,  and  believe, 
that,  without  her  and  her  gold,  it  was  quite  impossible  for 
me  to  live. 

"After  supper,  which  I  had  relished  very  little,  being 
forced  for  this  tune  to  consume  it  in  solitude,  I  took  to  walk- 
ing violently  up  and  down  my  room :  I  spoke  aloud  to  my- 
self, cursed  my  folly  with  horrid  execrations,  threw  myself 
on  the  floor,  tore  my  hair,  and  indeed  behaved  in  the  most 
outrageous  fashion.  Suddenly,  in  the  adjoining  chamber 
where  the  box  was,  I  heard  a  slight  movement,  and  then  a 
soft  knocking  at  the  well-bolted  door,  which  entered  from 
my  apartment.  I  gather  myself,  grope  for  my  master-key  ; 
but  the  door-leaves  fly  up  of  themselves,  and  in  the  light  of 
those  burning  wax  candles  enters  my  beauty.  I  cast  myself 
at  her  feet,  kiss  her  robe,  her  hands  ;  she  raises  me  ;  I  ven- 
ture not  to  clasp  her,  scarcely  to  look  at  her,  but  candidly 
and  repentantly  confess  to  her  my  fault.  '  It  is  pardonable,' 
said  she :  '  only  it  postpones  your  happiness  and  mine.  You 
must  now  make  another  tour  into  the  world  before  we  can 
meet  again.  Here  is  more  money,'  continued  she,  '  sufficient 
if  you  husband  it  with  any  kind  of  reason.  But,  as  wine  and 
play  have  brought  you  into  this  perplexity,  be  on  your  guard 
in  future  against  wine  and  women,  and  let  me  hope  for  a 
glad  meeting  when  the  time  comes.' 

"  She  retired  over  the  threshold  ;  the  door-leaves  flew  to- 
gether :  I  knocked,  I  entreated  ;  but  nothing  further  stirred. 
Next  morning,  while  presenting  his  bill,  the  waiter  smiled, 
and  said,  '  So  we  have  found  out  at  last,  then,  why  you  lock 
your  door  in  so  artful  and  incomprehensible  a  way,  that  no 
master-key  can  open  it.  We  supposed  you  must  have  much 
money  and  precious  ware  laid  up  by  you :  but  now  we  have 
seen  your  treasure  walking  down-stairs  ;  and,  in  good  truth, 
it  seemed  worthy  of  being  well  kept.' 

' '  To  this  I  answered  nothing,  but  paid  my  reckoning,  and 
mounted  with  my  box  into  the  carriage.  I  again  rolled 
forth  into  the  world,  with  the  firmest  resolution  to  be  heedful 
in  future  of  the  warning  given  me  by  my  fair  and  mysterious 
friend.  Scarcely,  however,  had  I  once  more  reached  a  large 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  285 

town,  when  forthwith  I  got  acquainted  with  certain  interest- 
ing ladies,  from  whom  I  absolutely  could  not  tear  myself 
away.  They  seemed  inclined  to  make  me  pay  dear  for  then- 
fa  vor  :  for,  while  they  still  kept  me  at  a  certain  distance,  they 
led  me  into  one  expense  after  the  other ;  and  I,  being  anx- 
ious only  to  promote  their  satisfaction,  once  more  ceased  to 
think  of  my  purse,  but  paid  and  spent  straightforward,  as 
occasion  needed.  But  how  great  was  my  astonishment  and 
joy,  when,  after  some  weeks,  I  observed  that  the  fulness  of 
my  store  was  not  in  the  least  diminished,  that  my  purse  was 
still  as  round  and  crammed  as  ever !  Wishing  to  obtain 
more  strict  knowledge  of  this  pretty  quality,  I  set  myself 
down  to  count :  I  accurately  marked  the  sum,  and  again 
proceeded  in  my  joyous  life  as  before.  We  had  no  want  of 
excursions  by  land,  and  excursions  by  water ;  of  dancing, 
singing,  and  other  recreations.  But  now  it  required  small 
attention  to  observe  that  the  purse  was  actually  diminishing, 
as  if  by  my  cursed  counting  I  had  robbed  it  of  the  property 
of  being  uncountable.  However,  this  gay  mode  of  existence 
had  been  once  entered  on :  I  could  not  draw  back,  and  yet 
my  ready  money  soon  verged  to  a  close.  I  execrated  my 
situation  ;  upbraided  my  fair  friend  for  having  so  led  me  into 
temptation ;  took  it  as  an  offence  that  she  did  not  again 
show  herself  to  me  ;  renounced  in  my  spleen  all  duties 
towards  her ;  and  resolved  to  break  open  the  box,  and  see 
if  peradventure  any  help  might  be  found  there.  I  was  just 
about  proceeding  with  my  purpose  :  but  I  put  it  off  till  night, 
that  I  might  go  through  the  business  with  full  composure ; 
and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  hastened  off  to  a  banquet,  for  which 
this  was  the  appointed  hour.  Here  again  we  got  into  a  high 
key :  the  wine  and  trumpet-sounding  had  flushed  me  not  a 
little,  when  by  the  most  villanous  luck  it  chanced,  that,  dur- 
ing the  dessert,  a  former  friend  of  my  dearest  fair  one,  re- 
turning from  a  journey,  entered  unexpectedly,  placed  himself 
beside  her,  and,  without  much  ceremony,  set  about  asserting 
his  old  privileges.  Hence,  very  soon  arose  ill-humor,  quar- 
relling, and  battle :  we  plucked  out  our  spits,  and  I  was 
carried  home  half  dead  of  several  wounds. 

"The  surgeon  had  bandaged  me  and  gone  away;  it  was 
far  in  the  night ;  my  sick-nurse  had  fallen  asleep  ;  the  door 
of  the  side-room  went  up ;  my  fair,  mysterious  friend  came 
in,  and  sat  down  by  me  on  the  bed.  She  asked  how  I  was. 
I  answered  not,  for  I  was  faint  and  sullen.  She  continued 
speaking  with  much  sympathy :  she  rubbed  my  temples  with 


236  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

a  certain  balsam,  whereby  I  felt  myself  rapidly  and  decidedly 
strengthened,  —  so  strengthened  that  I  could  now  get  angry 
and  upbraid  her.  In  a  violent  speech  I  threw  all  the  blame 
of  my  misfortune  on  her ;  on  the  passion  she  had  inspired 
me  with  ;  on  her  appearing  and  vanishing ;  and  the  tedium, 
the  longing,  which,  in  such  a  case,  I  could  not  but  feel.  I 
waxed  more  and  more  vehement,  as  if  a  fever  had  been 
coming  on  ;  and  I  swore  to  her  at  last,  that  if  she  would 
not  be  mine,  would  not  now  abide  with  me  and  wed  me, 
I  had  no  wish  to  live  any  longer :  to  all  which  I  required  a 
peremptory  answer.  As  she  lingered  and  held  back  with 
her  explanation,  I  got  altogether  beside  myself,  and  tore  off 
my  double  and  triple  bandages  in  the  firmest  resolution  to 
bleed  to  death.  But  what  was  my  amazement  when  I  found 
all  my  wounds  healed,  my  skin  smooth  and  entire,  and  this 
fair  friend  in  my  arms  ! 

"  Henceforth  we  were  the  happiest  pair  in  the  world.  "We 
both  begged  pardon  of  each  other  without  either  of  us  rightly 
knowing  why.  She  now  promised  to  travel  on  along  with 
me ;  and  soon  we  were  sitting  side  by  side  in  the  carriage, 
the  little  box  lying  opposite  us  on  the  other  seat.  Of  this 
I  had  never  spoken  to  her,  nor  did  I  now  think  of  speaking, 
though  it  lay  there  before  our  eyes  :  and  both  of  us,  by  tacit 
agreement,  took  charge  of  it,  as  circumstances  might  require  ; 
I,  however,  still  carrying  it  to  and  from  the  carriage,  and 
busying  myself,  as  formerly,  with  the  locking  of  the  doors. 

"  So  long  as  aught  remained  in  my  purse  I  had  continued 
to  pay  ;  but,  when  my  cash  went  down,  I  signified  the  fact  to 
her.  '  That  is  easity  helped,'  said  she,  pointing  to  a  couple 
of  little  pouches  fixed  at  the  top,  to  the  sides  of  the  carriage. 
These  I  had  often  observed  before,  but  never  turned  to  use. 
She  put  her  hand  into  the  one,  and  pulled  out  some  gold 
pieces,  as  from  the  other  some  coins  of  silver ;  thereby 
showing  me  the  possibility  of  meeting  any  scale  of  expen- 
diture which  we  might  choose  to  adopt.  And  thus  we  jour- 
neyed on  from  town  to  town,  from  land  to  land,  contented 
with  each  other  and  with  the  world  ;  and  I  fancied  not  that 
she  would  again  leave  me,  the  less  so  that  for  some  time  she 
had  evidently  been  as  loving  wives  wish  to  be,  a  circumstance 
by  which  our  happiness  and  mutual  affection  was  increased 
still  further.  But  one  morning,  alas !  she  could  not  be  found  ; 
and  as  my  actual  residence,  without  her  company,  became 
displeasing,  I  again  took  the  road  with  my  box,  tried  the 
virtue  of  the  two  pouches,  and  found  it  still  unimpaired. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  237 

"  My  journey  proceeded  without  accident.  But  if  I  had 
hitherto  paid  little  heed  to  the  mysteries  of  my  adventure, 
expecting  a  natural  solution  of  the  whole,  there  now  occurred 
something  which  threw  me  into  astonishment,  into  anxiety, 
nay,  into  fear.  Being  wont,  in  my  impatience  for  change 
of  place,  to  hurry  forward  day  and  night,  it  was  often  my 
hap  to  be  travelling  in  the  dark,  and,  when  the  lamps  by  any 
chance  went  out,  to  be  left  in  utter  obscurity.  Once,  in  the 
dead  of  such  a  night,  I  had  fallen  asleep  ;  and  on  awakening 
I  observed  the  glimmer  of  a  light  on  the  covering  of  my 
carriage.  I  examined  this  more  strictly,  and  found  that  it 
was  issuing  from  the  box,  in  which  there  seemed  to  be  a 
chink,  as  if  it  had  been  chapped  by  the  warm  and  dry  weather 
of  summer,  which  was  now  come  on.  My  thoughts  of  jewels 
again  came  into  my  head :  I  supposed  there  must  be  some 
carbuncle  lying  in  the  box,  and  this  point  I  forthwith  set 
about  investigating.  I  postured  myself  as  well  as  might  be, 
so  that  my  eye  was  in  immediate  contact  with  the  chink. 
But  how  great  was  my  surprise  when  a  fair  apartment,  well 
lighted,  and  furnished  with  much  taste  and  even  costliness, 
met  my  inspection ;  just  as  if  I  had  been  looking  down 
through  the  opening  of  a  dome  into  a  royal  saloon  !  A  fire 
was  burning  in  the  grate,  and  before  it  stood  an  arm-chair. 
I  held  my  breath,  and  continued  to  observe.  And  now  there 
entered  from  the  other  side  of  the  apartment  a  lady  with  a 
book  in  her  hand,  whom  I  at  once  recognized  for  my  wife ; 
though  her  figure  was  contracted  into  the  extreme  of  dimi- 
nution. She  sat  down  in  the  chair  by  the  fire  to  read  ;  she 
trimmed  the  coals  with  the  most  dainty  pair  of  tongs  ;  and, 
in  the  course  of  her  movements,  I  could  clearly  perceive  that 
this  fairest  little  creature  was  also  in  the  family  way.  But 
how  I  was  obliged  to  shift  my  constrained  posture  a  little  ; 
and  the  next  moment,  when  I  bent  down  to  look  in  again, 
and  convince  myself  that  it  was  no  dream,  the  light  had 
vanished,  and  my  eye  rested  on  empty  darkness. 

"  How  amazed,  nay,  terrified,  I  was,  you  may  easily  con- 
ceive. I  started  a  thousand  thoughts  on  this  discovery,  and 
yet  in  truth  could  think  nothing.  In  the  midst  of  this  I  fell 
asleep,  and  on  awakening  I  fancied  that  it  must  have  been 
a  mere  dream :  yet  I  felt  myself  in  some  degree  estranged 
from  my  fair  one  ;  and,  though  I. watched  over  the  box  but 
so  much  the  more  carefully,  I  knew  not  whether  the  event  of 
her  re-appearance  in  human  size  was  a  thing  which  I  should 
wish  or  dread. 


238  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

"  After  some  time  she  did  actually  re-appear.  One  even- 
ing in  a  white  robe  she  came  gliding  in  ;  and,  as  it  was  just 
then  growing  dusky  in  my  room,  she  seemed  to  me  taller 
than  when  I  had  seen  her  last :  and  I  remembered  having 
heard  that  all  beings  of  the  mermaid  and  gnome  species 
increased  in  stature  very  perceptibly  at  the  fall  of  night. 
She  flew  as  usual  to  my  arms,  but  I  could  not  with  right 
gladness  press  her  to  my  obstructed  breast. 

"  '  My  dearest,'  said  she,  '  I  now  feel,  by  thy  reception  of 
me,  what,  alas  !  I  already  knew  too  well.  Thou  hast  seen  me 
in  the  interim  ;  thou  art  acquainted  with  the  state  in  which, 
at  certain  times,  I  find  myself :  thy  happiness  and  mine  is 
interrupted,  — nay,  it  stands  on  the  brink  of  being  annihilated 
altogether.  I  must  leave  thee,  and  I  know  not  whether  I 
shall  ever  see  thee  again.'  Her  presence,  the  grace  with 
which  she  spoke,  directly  banished  from  my  memory  almost 
every  trace  of  that  vision,  which,  indeed,  had  already  hov- 
ered before  me  as  little  more  than  a  dream.  I  addressed  her 
with  kind  vivacity,  convinced  her  of  my  passion,  assured 
her  that  I  was  innocent,  that  my  discovery  was  accidental, 
—  in  short,  I  so  managed  it  that  she  appeared  composed, 
and  endeavored  to  compose  me. 

"  'Try  thyself  strictly,'  said  she,  'whether  this  discovery 
has  not  hurt  thy  love  ;  whether  thou  canst  forget  that  I  live 
in  two  forms  beside  thee ;  whether  the  diminution  of  my 
being  will  not  also  contract  thy  affection.' 

' '  I  looked  at  her  ;  she  was  fairer  than  ever :  and  I  thought 
within  myself,  Is  it  so  great  a  misfortune,  after  all,  to  have 
a  wife  who  from  time  to  time  becomes  a  dwarf,  so  that  one 
can  carry  her  about  with  him  in  a  casket  ?  Were  it  not  much 
worse  if  she  became  a  giantess,  and  put  her  husband  in  the 
box  ?  My  gayety  of  heart  had  returned.  I  would  not  for 
the  whole  world  have  let  her  go.  '  Best  heart,'  said  I,  '  let 
us  be  and  continue  ever  as  we  have  been.  Could  either  of 
us  wish  to  be  better?  Enjoy  thy  conveniency,  and  I  promise 
thee  to  guard  the  box  with  so  much  the  more  faithfulness. 
Why  should  the  prettiest  sight  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life 
make  a  bad  impression  on  me?  How  happy  would  lovers 
be,  could  they  but  procure  such  miniature  pictures !  And, 
after  all,  it  was  but  a  picture,  a  little  sleight-of-hand  decep- 
tion. Thou  art  trying  and  teasing  me,  but  thou  shalt  see 
how  I  will  stand  it.' 

"  '  The  matter  is  more  serious  than  thou  thinkest,'  said  the 
fair  one :  "  however,  I  am  truly  glad  to  see  thee  take  it  so 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  239 

lightly  ;  for  much  good  may  still  be  awaiting  us  both.  I  will 
trust  in  thee,  and  for  my  own  part  do  my  utmost :  only 
promise  me  that  thou  wilt  never  mention  this  discovery  by 
way  of  reproach.  Another  prayer  likewise  I  most  earnestly 
make  to  thee :  Be  more  than  ever  on  thy  guard  against  wine 
and  anger.' 

' '  I  promised  what  she  required ;  I  could  have  gone  on 
promising  to  all  lengths  :  but  she  herself  turned  aside  the  con- 
versation, and  thenceforth  all  proceeded  in  its  former  rou- 
tine. We  had  n^  inducement  to  alter  our  place  of  residence  : 
the  town  was  large,  the  society  various  ;  and  the  fine  season 
gave  rise  to  many  an  excursion  and  garden  festival. 

"  In  all  such  amusements  the  presence  of  my  wife  was 
welcome,  nay,  eagerly  desired,  by  women  as  well  as  men.  A 
kind,  insinuating  manner,  joined  with  a  certain  dignity  of 
bearing,  secured  to  her  on  all  hands  praise  and  estimation. 
Besides,  she  could  play  beautifully  on  the  lute,  accompanying 
it  with  her  voice  ;  and  no  social  night  could  be  perfect  unless 
crowned  by  the  graces  of  this  talent. 

"  I  will  be  free  to  confess  that  I  never  cared  much  for 
music :  on  the  contrary,  it  has  always  rather  had  a  disa- 
greeable effect  on  me.  My  fair  one  soon  noticed  this  ;  and 
accordingly,  when  by  ourselves,  she  never  tried  to  entertain 
me  by  such  means  :  in  return,  however,  she  appeared  to  in- 
demnify herself  while  in  society,  where,  indeed,  she  always 
found  a  crowd  of  admirers. 

"And  now,  why  should  I  deny  it?  our  late  dialogue,  in 
spite  of  my  best  intentions,  had  by  no  means  sufficed  to 
settle  the  matter  within  me  :  on  the  contrary,  my  temper  of 
mind  had  by  degrees  got  into  the  strangest  tune,  almost 
without  my  being  conscious  of  it.  One '  night,  in  a  large 
company,  this  hidden  grudge  broke  loose,  and,  by  its  conse- 
quences, produced  to  myself  the  greatest  damage. 

"  When  I  look  back  on  it  now,  I,  in  fact,  loved  my  beauty 
far  less  after  that  unlucky  discovery :  I  was  also  growing 
jealous  of  her,  —  a  whim  that  had  never  struck  me  before. 
This  night  at  table,  I  found  myself  placed  very  much  to  my 
mind  beside  my  two  neighbors,  a  couple  of  ladies,  who,  for 
some  time,  had  appeared  to  me  very  charming.  Amid  jesting 
and  soft  small  talk,  I  was  not  sparing  of  my  wine  ;  while,  on 
the  other  side,  a  pair  of  musical  dilettanti  had  got  hold  of  my 
wife,  and  at  last  contrived  to  lead  the  company  into  singing 
separately,  and  by  way  of  chorus.  This  put  me  into  ill-hu- 
mor. The  two  amateurs  appeared  to  me  impertinent ;  the 


240  MEISTER'S' TRAVELS. 

singing  vexed  me  ;  and  when,  as  my  turn  came,  they  even  re- 
quested a  solo-strophe  from  me,  I  grew  truly  indignant :  I  emp- 
tied my  glass,  and  set  it  down  again  with  no  soft  movement. 

"  The  grace  of  my  two  fair  neighbors  soon  pacified  me, 
but  there  is  an  evil  nature  in  wrath  when  once  it  is  set  a-go- 
ing. It  went  on  fermenting  within  me,  though  all  things 
were  of  a  kind  to  induce  joy  and  complaisance.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  waxed  more  splenetic  than  ever  when  a  lute  was 
produced,  and  my  fair  one  began  fingering  it  and  singing,  to 
the  admiration  of  all  the  rest.  Unhappily  a  general  silence 
was  requested.  So,  then,  I  was  not  even  to  talk  any  more  ; 
and  these  tones  were  going  through  me  like  a  toothache.  Was 
it  any  wonder  that,  at  last,  the  smallest  spark  should  blow 
up  the  mine? 

"  The  songstress  had  just  ended  a  song  amid  the  loudest 
applauses,  when  she  looked  over  to  me  ;  and  this  truly  with 
the  most  loving  face  in  the  world.  Unluckily,  its  lovingness 
could  not  penetrate  so  far.  She  perceived  that  I  had  just 
gulped  down  a  cup  of  wine,  and  was  pouring  out  a  fresh  one. 
With  her  right  forefinger  she  beckoned  to  me  in  kind  threat- 
ening. '  Consider  that  it  is  wine  !  '  said  she,  not  louder  than 
for  myself  to  hear  it.  '  Water  is  for  mermaids !  '  cried  I. 
'  My  ladies,'  said  she  to  my  neighbors,  '  crown  the  cup  with 
all  your  gracefulness,  that  it  be  not  too  often  emptied.'  — 
*  You  will  not  let  yourself  be  tutored  ?  '  whispered  one  of 
them  in  my  ear.  '  What  ails  the  dwarf  ?  '  cried  I,  with  a 
more  violent  gesture,  in  which  I  overset  the  glass.  *  Ah, 
what  you  have  spilt !  '  cried  the  paragon  of  women  ;  at  the 
same  time  twanging  her  strings,  as  if  to  lead  back  the  atten- 
tion of  the  company  from  this  disturbance  to  herself.  Her 
attempt  succeeded ;  the  more  completely  as  she  rose  to  her 
feet,  seemingly  that  she  might  play  with  greater  convenience, 
and  in  this  attitude  continued  preluding. 

"  At  sight  of  the  red  wine  running  over  the  tablecloth,  I 
returned  to  myself.  I  perceived  the  great  fault  I  had  been 
guilty  of,  and  it  cut  me  through  the  very  heart.  Never  till 
now  had  music  had  an  effect  on  me :  the  first  verse  she  sang 
was  a  friendly  good-night  to  the  company,  here  as  they  were, 
as  they  might  still  feel  themselves  together.  With  the  next 
verse  they  became  as  if  scattered  asunder :  each  felt  himself 
solitary,  separated,  no  one  could  fancy  that  he  was  present 
any  longer.  But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  last  verse?  It  was 
directed  to  me  alone,  the  voice  of  injured  love  bidding  fare- 
well to  moroseness  and  caprice. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  241 

"In  silence  I  conducted  her  home,  foreboding  no  good. 
Scarcely,  however,  had  we  reached  our  chamber,  when  she 
began  to  show  herself  exceedingly  kind  and  graceful,  — nay, 
even  roguish :  she  made  me  the  happiest  of  all  men. 

Next  morning,  in  high  spirits  and  full  of  love,  I  said  to 
her,  '  Thou  hast  so  often  sung,  when  asked  in  company ; 
as,  for  example,  thy  touching  farewell  song  last  night.  Come 
now,  for  my  sake,  and  sing  me  a  dainty,  gay  welcome  to  this 
morning  hour,  that  we  may  feel  as  if  we  were  meeting  for 
the  first  time.' 

"  '  That  I  cannot  do,  my  friend,'  said  she  seriously. 
'  The  song  of  last  night  referred  to  our  parting,  which  must 
now  forthwith  take  place ;  for  I  can  only  tell  thee,  the  vio- 
lation of  thy  promise  and  oath  will  have  the  worst  conse- 
quences for  us  both  :  thou  hast  scoffed  away  a  great  felicity ; 
and  I,  too,  must  renounce  my  dearest  wishes.' 

"  As  I  now  pressed  and  entreated  her  to  explain  herself 
more  clearly,  she  answered,  '  That,  alas  !  I  can  well  do  ;  for, 
at  all  events,  my  continuance  with  thee  is  over.  Hear,  then, 
what  I  would  rather  have  concealed  to  the  latest  times.  The 
form  under  which  thou  sawest  me  in  the  box  is  my  natural 
and  proper  form  ;  for  I  am  of  the  race  of  King  Eckwald,  the 
dread  sovereign  of  the  dwarfs,  concerning  whom  authentic 
history  has  recorded  so  much.  Our  people  are  still,  as  of 
old,  laborious  and  busy,  and  therefore  easy  to  govern.  Thou 
must  not  fancy  that  the  dwarfs  are  behindhand  in  their 
manufacturing  skill.  Swords  which  followed  the  foe,  when 
you  cast  them  after  him  ;  invisible  and  mysteriously  binding 
chains ;  impenetrable  shields,  and  such  like  ware,  in  old 
times,  —  formed  their  staple  produce.  But  now  they  chiefly 
employ  themselves  with  articles  of  convenience  and  orna- 
ment, in  which  truly  they  surpass  all  people  of  the  earth.  I 
may  well  say,  it  would  astonish  thee  to  walk  through  our 
workshops  and  warehouses.  All  this  would  be  right  and 
good,  were  it  not  that  with  the  whole  nation  in  general,  but 
more  particularly  with  the  royal  family,  there  is  one  peculiar 
circumstance  connected.' 

"  She  paused  for  a  moment,  and  I  again  begged  further 
light  on  these  wonderful  secrets ;  which,  accordingly,  she 
forthwith  proceeded  to  grant. 

k'  '  It  is  well  known,'  said  she,  '  that  God,  so  soon  as  he 
had  created  the  world,  and  the  ground  was  dry,  and  the 
mountains  were  standing  bright  and  glorious,  that  God,  I 
say,  thereupon,  in  the  very  first  place,  created  the  dwarfs, 


242  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

to  the  end  that  there  might  be  reasonable  beings  also,  who, 
in  their  passages  arid  chasms,  might  contemplate  and  adore 
his  wonders  in  the  inward  parts  of  the  earth.  It  is  further 
well  known,  that  this  little  race  by  degrees  became  uplifted 
in  heart,  and  attempted  to  acquire  the  dominion  of  the  earth  ; 
for  which  reason  God  then  created  the  dragons,  in  order  to 
drive  back  the  dwarfs  into  their  mountains.  Now,  as  the 
dragons  themselves  were  wont  to  nestle  in  the  large  caverns 
and  clefts,  and  dwell  there  ;  and  many  of  them,  too,  were  in 
the  habit  of  spitting  fire,  and  working  much  other  mischief,  — 
the  poor  little  dwarfs  were  by  this  means  thrown  into  exceed- 
ing straits  and  distress :  so  that,  not  knowing  what  in  the 
world  to  do,  they  humbly  and  fervently  turned  to  God,  and 
called  to  him  in  prayer,  that  he  would  vouchsafe  to  abolish 
this  unclean  dragon  generation.  But  though  it  consisted  not 
with  his  wisdom  to  destroy  his  own  creatures,  yet  the  heavy 
sufferings  of  the  poor  dwarfs  so  moved  his  compassion,  that 
anon  he  created  the  giants,  ordaining  them  to  fight  these  drag- 
ons, and,  if  not  root  them  out,  at  least  lessen  their  numbers. 

"'Now,  no  sooner  had  the  giants  got  moderately  well 
through  with  the  dragons,  than  their  heaits  also  began  to 
wax  wanton :  and,  in  their  presumption,  they  practised 
much  tyranny,  especially  on  the  good  little  dwarfs,  who 
then  once  more  in  their  need  turned  to  the  Lord ;  and  he, 
by  the  power  of  his  hand,  created  the  knights,  who  were 
to  make  war  on  the  giants  and  dragons,  and  to  live  in 
concord  with  the  dwarfs.  Hereby  was  the  work  of  creation 
completed  on  this  side ;  and  it  is  plain,  that  henceforth 
giants  and  dragons,  as  well  as  knights  and  dwarfs,  have 
always  maintained  themselves  in  being.  From  this,  my 
friend,  it  will  be  clear  to  thee  that  we  are  of  the  oldest  race 
on  the  earth,  —  a  circumstance  which  does  us  honor,  but  at 
the  same  time  brings  great  disadvantage  along  with  it. 

"  '  For  as  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that  can  endure 
forever,  but  all  that  has  once  been  great  must  become  little 
and  fade,  it  is  our  lot,  also,  that,  ever  since  the  creation  of 
the  world,  we  have  been  waning,  and  growing  smaller,  —  espe- 
cially the  royal  family,  on  whom,  by  reason  of  their  pure 
blood,  this  destiny  presses  with  the  heaviest  force.  To 
remedy  this  evil,  our  wise  teachers  have  many  years  ago 
devised  the  expedient  of  sending  forth  a  princess  of  the 
royal  house  from  time  to  time  into  the  world,  to  wed  some 
honorable  knight,  that  so  the  dwarf  progeny  may  be  re- 
fected, and  saved  from  entire  decay.' 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  243 

"Though  my  fair  one  related  these  things  with  an  air  of 
the  utmost  sincerity,  I  looked  at  her  hesitatingly ;  for  it 
seemed  as  if  she  meant  to  palm  some  fable  on  me.  As  to 
her  own  dainty  lineage  I  had  not  the  smallest  doubt ;  but 
that  she  should  have  laid  hold  of  me  in  place  of  a  knight 
occasioned  some  mistrust,  seeing  I  knew  myself  too  well  to 
suppose  that  my  ancestors  had  come  into  the  world  by  an 
immediate  act  of  creation. 

"  I  concealed  my  wonder  and  scepticism,  and  asked  her 
kindly,  k  But  tell  me,  my  dear  child,  how  hast  thou  attained 
this  large  and  stately  shape?  For  I  know  few  women  that 
in  richness  of  form  can  compare  with  thee.'  —  'Thou  shalt 
hear,'  replied  she.  '  It  is  a  settled  maxim  in  the  council 
of  the  dwarf  kings,  that  this  extraordinary  step  be  forborne 
as  long  as  it  possibly  can ;  which,  indeed,  I  cannot  but 
say  is  quite  natural  and  proper.  Perhaps  they  might  have 
hesitated  still  longer  had  not  my  brother,  born  after  me, 
come  into  the  world  so  exceedingly  small  that  the  nurses 
actually  lost  him  out  of  his  swaddling-clothes ;  and  no  crea- 
ture yet  knows  whither  he  is  gone.  On  this  occurrence, 
unexampled  in  the  annals  of  dwarf dom,  the  sages  were 
assembled  ;  and,  without  more  ado,  the  resolution  was  taken, 
and  I  sent  out  in  quest  of  a  husband.' 

"'The  resolution!'  exclaimed  I,  'that  is  all  extremely 
well.  One  can  resolve,  one  can  take  his  resolution  ;  but,  to 
give  a  dwarf  this  heavenly  shape,  how  did  your  sages  man- 
age that  ? ' 

"  'It  had  been  provided  for  already,'  said  she,  'by  our 
ancestors.  In  the  royal  treasury  lay  a  monstrous  gold  ring. 
I  speak  of  it  as  it  then  appeared  to  me,  when  I  saw  it 
in  my  childhood ;  for  it  was  this  same  ring  which  I  have 
here  on  my  finger.  We  now  went  to  work  as  follows. 

"  'I  was  informed  of  all  that  awaited  me,  and  instructed 
what  I  had  to  do  and  to  forbear.  A  splendid  palace,  after 
the  pattern  of  my  father's  favorite  summer  residence,  was 
then  got  ready,  —  a  main  edifice,  wings,  and  whatever  else 
you  could  think  of.  It  stood  at  the  entrance  of  a  large 
rock-cleft,  which  it  decorated  in  the  handsomest  style.  On 
the  appointed  day  our  court  moved  thither,  my  parents, 
also,  and  myself.  The  army  paraded  ;  and  four  and  twenty 
priests,  not  without  difficulty,  carried  on  a  costly  litter  the 
mysterious  ring.  It  was  placed  on  the  threshold  of  the 
building,  just  within  the  spot  where  you  entered.  Many 
ceremonies  were  observed ;  and,  after  a  pathetic  farewell,  I 


244  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

proceeded  to  my  task.  I  stepped  forward  to  the  ring,  laid 
my  finger  on  it,  and  that  instant  began  perceptibly  to  wax 
in  stature.  In  a  few  moments  I  had  reached  my  present 
size,  and  then  I  put  the  ring  on  my  finger.  But  now,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  doors,  windows,  gates,  flapped 
to ;  the  wings  drew  up  into  the  body  of  the  edifice  ;  instead 
of  a  palace  stood  a  little  box  beside  me,  which  I  forthwith 
lifted,  and  carried  off  with  me,  not  without  a  pleasant  feel- 
ing in  being  so  tall  and  strong.  Still,  indeed,  a  dwarf  to 
trees  and  mountains,  to  streams,  and  tracts  of  land,  yet  a 
giant  to  grass  and  herbs,  and,  above  all,  to  ants,  from  whom 
we  dwarfs,  not  being  always  on  the  best  terms  with  them, 
often  suffer  considerable  annoyance. 

"  '  How  it  fared  with  me  on  my  pilgrimage,  I  might  tell 
thee  at  great  length.  Suffice  it  to  say  I  tried  many,  but  no 
one  save  thou  seemed  worthy  of  being  honored  to  renovate 
and  perpetuate  the  line  of  the  glorious  Eckwald.' 

"  In  the  course  of  these  narrations  my  head  had  now  and 
then  kept  wagging,  without  myself  having  absolutely  shaken 
it.  I  put  several  questions,  to  which  I  received  no  very 
satisfactory  answers :  on  the  contrary,  I  learned,  to  my 
great  affliction,  that  after  what  had  happened  she  must 
needs  return  to  her  parents.  She  had  hopes  still,  she  said, 
of  getting  back  to  me :  but,  for  the  present,  it  was  indis- 
pensably necessary  to  present  herself  at  court;  as  other- 
wise, both  for  her  and  me,  there  was  nothing  but  utter 
ruin.  The  purses  would  soon  cease  to  pay,  and  who  knew 
what  all  would  be  the  consequences? 

"On  hearing  that  our  money  would  run  short,  I  inquired 
no  further  into  consequences ;  I  shrugged  my  shoulders ;  I 
was  silent,  and  she  seemed  to  understand  me. 

"  We  now  packed  up,  and  got  into  our  carriage,  the  box 
standing  opposite  us ;  in  which,  however,  I  could  still  see 
no  symptoms  of  a  palace.  In  this  way  we  proceeded  sev- 
eral stages.  Post-money  and  drink-money  were  readily  and 
richly  paid  from  the  pouches  to  the  right  and  left,  till  at 
last  we  reached  a  mountainous  district ;  and  no  sooner  had 
we  alighted  here  than  my  fair  one  walked  forward,  directing 
me  to  follow  her  with  the  box.  She  led  me  by  rather  steep 
paths  to  a  narrow  plot  of  green  ground,  through  which  a 
clear  brook  now  gushed  in  little  falls,  now  ran  in  quiet 
windings.  She  pointed  to  a  little  knoll,  bade  me  set  the 
box  down  there,  then  said,  '  Farewell !  Thou  wilt  easily 
find  the  way  back ;  remember  me  ;  I  hope  to  see  thee  again.' 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  245 

"  At  this  moment  I  felt  as  if  I  could  not  leave  her.  She 
was  just  now  in  one  of  her  fine  clays,  or,  if  you  will,  her 
fine  hours.  Alone  with  so  fair  a  being,  on  the  greensward, 
among  grass  and  flowers,  girt  in  by  rocks,  waters  murmur- 
irg  round  you,  what  heart  could  have  remained  insensible ! 
I  came  forward  to  seize  her  hand,  to  clasp  her  in  my  arms ; 
but  she  motioned  me  back,  threatening  me,  though  still 
kindly  enough,  with  great  danger  if  I  did  not  instantly 
withdraw. 

"  '  Is  there  not  any  possibility,'  exclaimed  I,  '  of  my 
staying  with  thee,  of  thy  keeping  me  beside  thee  ? '  These 
words  I  uttered  with  such  rueful  tones  and  gestures,  that 
she  seemed  touched  by  them,  and  after  some  thought  con- 
fessed to  me  that  a  continuance  of  our  union  was  not 
entirely  impossible.  Who  happier  than  I !  My  importu- 
nity, which  increased  every  moment,  compelled  her  at  last 
to  come  out  with  her  scheme,  and  inform  me,  that  if  I,  too, 
could  resolve  on  becoming  as  little  as  I  had  once  seen  her, 
I  might  still  remain  with  her,  be  admitted  to  her  house,  her 
kingdom,  her  family.  The  proposal  was  not  altogether  to 
my  mind,  yet  at  this  moment  I  positively  could  not  tear 
myself  away :  so,  having  already  for  a  good  while  been 
accustomed  to  the  marvellous,  and  being  at  all  times  prone 
to  bold  enterprises,  I  closed  with  her  offer,  and  said  she 
might  do  with  me  as  she  pleased. 

"  I  was  thereupon  directed  to  hold  out  the  little  finger 
of  my  right  hand :  she  placed  her  own  against  it ;  then,  with 
her  left  hand,  she  quite  softly  pulled  the  ring  from  her  fin- 
ger, and  let  it  run  along  mine.  That  instant  I  felt  a  violent 
twinge  on  my  finger:  the  ring  shrunk  together,  and  tor- 
tured me  horribly.  I  gave  a  loud  cry,  and  caught  round 
me  for  my  fair  one ;  but  she  had  disappeared.  What  state 
of  mind  I  was  in  during  this  moment,  I  find  no  words  to 
express :  so  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  but  that  I  very 
soon,  in  my  miniature  size,  found  myself  beside  my  fair 
one  in  a  wood  of  grass-stalks.  The  joy  of  meeting  after 
this  short  yet  most  strange  separation,  or,  if  you  will,  of 
this  re-union  without  separation,  exceeds  all  conception.  I 
fell  on  her  neck :  she  replied  to  my  caresses,  and  the  little 
pair  was  as  happy  as  the  large  one. 

"  With  some  difficulty  we  now  mounted  a  hill :  I  say  dif- 
ficulty, because  the  sward  had  become  for  us  an  almost  im- 
penetrable forest.  Yet  at  length  we  reached  a  bare  space ; 
and  how  surprised  was  I  at  perceiving  there  a  large,  bolted 


246  METSTER'S  TRAVELS. 

mass,  which,  erelong,  I  could  not  but  recognize  for  the  box, 
in  the  same  state  as  when  I  had  set  it  down. 

"  '  Go  up  to  it,  my  friend,'  said  she,  '  and  do  but  knock 
with  the  ring:  thou  shalt  see  wonders.'  I  went  up  accord- 
ingly ;  and  no  sooner  had  I  rapped,  than  I  did,  in  fact,  wit- 
ness the  greatest  wonder.  Two  wings  came  jutting  out ; 
and  at  the  same  time  there  fell,  like  scales  and  chips,  various 
pieces  this  way  and  that :  while  doors,  windows,  colonnades, 
and  all  that  belongs  to  a  complete  palace,  at  once  came  into 
view. 

"  If  ever  you  have  seen  one  of  Rontgen's  desks,  — how,  at 
one  pull,  a  multitude  of  springs  and  latches  get  in  motion, 
and  writing-board  and  writing  materials,  letter  and  money 
compartments,  all  at  once,  or  in  quick  succession,  start  for- 
ward,— you  will  partly  conceive  how  this  palace  unfolded  it- 
self, into  which  my  sweet  attendant  now  introduced  me.  In 
the  large  saloon  I  directly  recognized  the  fireplace  which  I 
had  formerly  seen  from  above,  and  the  chair  in  which  she  had 
then  been  sitting.  And,  on  looking  up,  I  actually  fancied  I 
could  still  see  something  of  the  chink  in  the  dome,  through 
which  I  had  peeped  in.  I  spare  you  the  description  of  the 
rest :  in  a  word,  all  was  spacious,  splendid,  and  tasteful. 
Scarcely  had  I  recovered  from  my  astonishment,  when  I 
heard  afar  off  a  sound  of  military  music.  My  better  half 
sprang  up,  and  with  rapture  announced  to  me  the  approach 
of  his  Majesty  her  father.  We  stepped  out  to  the  threshold, 
and  here  beheld  a  magnificent  procession  moving  towards  us 
from  a  considerable  cleft  in  the  rock.  Soldiers,  sen-ants, 
officers  of  state,  and  glittering  courtiers,  followed  in  order. 
At  last  you  observed  a  golden  throng,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 
the  king  himself.  So  soon  as  the  whole  procession  had 
drawn  up  before  the  palace,  the  king,  with  his  nearest  retinue, 
stepped  forward.  His  loving  daughter  hastened  out  to  him, 
pulling  me  along  with  her.  We  threw  ourselves  at  his  feet : 
lie  raised  me  very  graciously ;  and,  on  coming  to  stand  before 
him,  I  perceived,  that  in  this  little  world  I  was  still  the  most 
considerable  figure.  We  proceeded  together  to  the  palace, 
where  his  Majesty,  in  presence  of  his  whole  court,  was 
pleased  to  welcome  me  with  a  well-studied  oration,  in  which 
he  expressed  his  surprise  at  finding  us  here,  acknowledged 
me  as  his  son-in-law,  and  appointed  the  nuptial  ceremony  to 
take  place  on  the  morrow. 

"A  cold  sweat  went  over  me  as  I  heard  him  speak  of 
marriage ;  for  I  dreaded  this  even  more  than  music,  which 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  247 

had,  of  old,  appeared  to  me  the  most  hateful  thing  on  earth. 
Your  music-makers,  I  used  to  say,  enjoy  at  least  the  conceit 
of  being  in  unison  with  each  other,  and  working  in  concord  ; 
for  when  they  have  tweaked  and  tuned  long  enough,  grating 
our  ears  with  all  manner  of  screeches,  they  believe  in  their 
hearts  that  the  matter  is  now  adjusted,  and  one  instrument 
accurately  suited  to  the  other.  The  band-master  himself  is 
in  this  happy  delusion  ;  and  so  they  set  forth  joyfully,  though 
still  tearing  our  nerves  to  pieces.  In  the  marriage  state, 
even  this  is  not  the  case  ;  for  although  it  is  but  a  duet,  and 
you  might  think  two  voices,  or  even  two  instruments,  might 
in  some  degree  be  attuned  to  each  other,  yet  this  happens 
very  seldom :  for  while  the  man  gives  out  one  tone,  the  wife 
directly  takes  a  higher  one,  and  the  man  again  a  higher ;  and 
so  it  rises  from  the  chamber  to  the  choral  pitch,  and  farther 
and  farther,  till  at  last  not  even  wind-instruments  can  reach 
it.  And  now,  as  I  loathe  harmonical  music,  it  cannot  be 
surprising  that  disharmonical  should  be  a  thing  which  I  can- 
not endure. 

"  Of  all  the  festivities  in  which  the  day  was  spent,  I  shall 
and  can  not  give  an  account ;  for  I  paid  small  heed  to  them. 
The  sumptuous  victuals,  the  generous  wine,  the  royal  amuse- 
ments, I  could  not  relish.  I  kept  thinking  and  considering 
what  I  was  to  do.  Here,  however,  there  was  but  little  to  be 
considered.  I  determined,  once  for  all,  to  take  myself  away, 
and  hide  somewhere.  Accordingly,  I  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  chink  of  a  stone,  where  I  intrenched  and  concealed  my- 
self as  well  as  might  be.  My  first  care  after  this  was  to  get 
the  unhappy  ring  off  my  finger,  —  an  enterprise,  however, 
which  would  by  no  means  prosper ;  for,  on  the  contrary,  I 
felt  that  every  pull  I  gave,  the  metal  grew  straiter,  and 
cramped  me  with  violent  pains,  which  again  abated  so  soon 
as  I  desisted  from  my  purpose. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  I  awoke  (for  my  little  person  had 
slept,  and  very  soundly) ,  and  was  just  stepping  out  to  look 
farther  about  me,  when  I  felt  a  kind  of  rain  coming  on. 
Through  the  grass,  flowers,  and  leaves,  there  fell,  as  it  were, 
something  like  sand  and  grit  in  large  quantities ;  but  what 
was  my  horror  when  the  whole  of  it  became  alive,  and  an 
innumerable  host  of  ants  rushed  down  on  me !  No  sooner 
did  they  observe  me  than  they  made  an  attack  on  all  sides  ; 
and,  though  I  defended  myself  stoutly  and  gallantly  enough, 
they  at  last  so  hemmed  me  in,  so  nipped  and  pinched 
me,  that  I  was  glad  to  hear  them  calling  to  surrender.  I 


248  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

surrendered  instantly  and  wholly,  whereupon  an  ant  of  re- 
spectable stature  approached  me  with  courtesy,  nay,  with 
reverence,  and  even  recommended  itself  to  my  good  graces. 
I  learned  that  the  ants  had  now  become  allies  of  m}T  father- 
in-law,  and  by  him  been  called  out  in  the  present  emergency, 
and  commissioned  to  fetch  me  back.  Here,  then,  was  little  I 
in  the  hands  of  creatures  still  less.  I  had  nothing  for  "it  but 
looking  forward  to  the  marriage ;  nay,  I  must  now  thank 
Heaven  if  my  father-in-law  were  not  wroth,  if  my  fair  one 
had  not  taken  the  sullens. 

"  Let  me  skip  over  the  whole  train  of  ceremonies :  in  a 
word,  we  were  wedded.  Gayly  and  joyously  as  matters 
went,  there  were,  nevertheless,  solitary  hours  in  which  you 
were  led  astray  into  reflection ;  and  now  there  happened  to 
me  something  which  had  never  happened  before,  —  what,  and 
how,  you  shall  learn. 

"Every  thing  about  me  was  completely  adapted  to  my 
present  form  and  wants  :  the  bottles  and  glasses  were  in  a  fit 
ratio  to  a  little  toper,  —  nay,  if  you  will,  better  measure  in  pro- 
portion than  with  us.  In  my  tiny  palate  the  dainty  tidbits 
tasted  excellently  ;  a  kiss  from  the  little  mouth  of  my  spouse 
was  still  the  most  charming  thing  in  nature ;  and  I  will  not 
deny  that  novelty  made  all  these  circumstances  highly  agree- 
able. Unhappily,  however,  I  had  not  forgotten  my  former 
situation.  I  felt  within  me  a  scale  of  by-gone  greatness,  and 
it  rendered  me  restless  and  cheerless.  Now,  for  the  first 
time,  did  I  understand  what  the  philosophers  might  mean  by 
their  ideal,  which  they  say  so  plagues  the  mind  of  man.  I 
had  an  ideal  of  myself,  and  often  in  dreams  I  appeared  as 
a  giant.  In  short,  my  wife,  my  ring,  my  dwarf  figure,  and 
so  many  other  bonds  and  restrictions,  made  me  utterly  un- 
happy ;  so  that  I  began  to  think  seriously  about  obtaining 
aiy  deliverance. 

"  Being  persuaded  that  the  whole  magic  lay  in  the  ring,  I 
resolved  on  filing  this  asunder.  From  the  court-jeweller, 
accordingly,  I  borrowed  some  files.  By  good  luck  I  was  left- 
handed  ;  as,  indeed,  throughout  my  whole  life  I  had  never 
done  aught  in  the  right-handed  way.  I  stood  tightly  to  the 
work :  it  was  not  small ;  for  the  golden  hoop,  so  thin  as  it 
appeared,  had  grown  proportionately  thicker  in  contracting 
from  its  former  length.  All  vacant  hours  I  privately  applied 
to  this  task  ;  and  at  last,  the  metal  being  nearly  through,  I 
was  provident  enough  to  step  out  of  doors.  This  was  a 
wise  measure  ;  for  all  at  once  the  golden  hoop  started  sharply 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  249 

from  my  finger,  and  my  frame  shot  aloft  with  such  violence 
that  I  actually  fancied  I  should  dash  against  the  sky :  and, 
at  all  events,  I  must  have  bolted  through  the  dome  of  our 
palace,  —  nay,  perhaps,  in  my  new  awkwardness,  have  de- 
stroyed this  summer  residence  altogether. 

"Here,  then,  was  I  standing  again,  — in  truth,  so  much  the 
larger,  but  also,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  so  much  the  more  stupid 
and  helpless.  On  recovering  from  my  stupefaction,  I  ob- 
served the  royal  strong-box  lying  near  me,  which  I  found  to 
be  moderately  heavy,  as  I  lifted  it,  and  carried  it  down  the 
footpath  to  the  next  stage,  where  I  directly  ordered  horses 
and  set  forth.  By  the  road  I  soon  made  trial  of  the  two 
side-pouches.  Instead  of  money,  which  appeared  to  be  run 
out,  I  found  a  little  key :  it  belonged  to  the  strong-box,  in 
which  I  got  some  moderate  compensation.  So  long  as  this 
held  out,  I  made  use  of  the  carriage :  by  and  by  I  sold  it, 
and  proceeded  by  the  diligence.  The  strong-box,  too,  I  at 
length  cast  from  me  ;  having  no  hope  of  its  ever  filling  again. 
And  thus  in  the  end,  though  after  a  considerable  circuit,  I 
again  returned  to  the  kitchen-hearth,  to  the  landlady  and  the 
cook,  where  you  were  first  introduced  to  me." 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

LENARDO  was  overwhelmed  with  business,  his  writing- 
office  in  the  greatest  activity  ;  clerks  and  secretaries  finding 
no  moment's  rest:  while  Wilhelm  and  Friedrich,  strolling 
over  field  and  meadow,  were  entertaining  each  other  with 
the  most  pleasant  conversation. 

And  here,  first  of  all,  as  necessarily  happens  between 
friends  meeting  after  some  separation,  the  question  was 
started,  How  far  they  had  altered  in  the  interim  ?  Friedrich 
would  have  it  that  Wilhelm  was  exactly  the  same  as  before  : 
to  Wilhelm,  again,  it  seemed  that  his  young  friend,  though  no 
whit  abated  in  mirth  and  discursiveness,  was  somewhat  more 
staid  in  his  manner.  "  It  were  pity,"  interrupted  Friedrich, 
"if  the  father  of  three  children,  the  husband  of  an  exem- 
plary matron,  had  not  likewise  gained  a  little  in  dignity  of 
bearing." 

Now,  also,  it  came  to  light,  that  all  the  persons  whom  we 


250  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

got  acquainted  with  in  the  "  Apprenticeship  "  were  still  living 
and  well,  —  nay,  better  than  before,  being  now  in  full  and 
decisive  activity ;  each,  in  his  own  way,  associated  with 
many  fellow-laborers,  and  striving  towards  the  noblest  aim. 
Of  this,  however,  it  is  not  for  the  present  permitted  us  to 
impart  any  more  precise  information  ;  as,  in  a  little  book 
like  ours,  reserve  and  secrecy  may  be  no  unseemly  qualities. 

But  whatever,  in  the  course  of  this  confidential  conversa- 
tion, transpired  respecting  the  society  in  which  we  now  are, 
as  their  more  intimate  relations,  maxims,  and  objects,  by 
little  and  little,  came  to  view,  it  is  our  duty  and  opportunity 
to  disclose  in  this  place. 

"The  whim  of  emigration,"  —  such  was  the  substance  of 
Friedrich's  talk  on  this  matter,  —  "the  whim  of  emigration 
may,  in  straitened  and  painful  circumstances,  very  naturally 
lay  hold  of  men :  if  particular  cases  chance  to  be  favored 
by  a  happy  issue,  this  whim  will,  in  the  general  mind,  rise 
to  the  rank  of  passion  ;  as  we  have  seen,  as  we  still  see,  and, 
withal,  cannot  deny  that  we,  in  our  time,  have  been  befooled 
by  such  a  delusion  ourselves. 

"  Emigration  takes  place  in  the  treacherous  hope  of  an 
improvement  in  our  circumstances,  and  it  is  too  often  coun- 
terbalanced by  a  subsequent  emigration  ;  since,  go  where  you 
may,  you  still  find  yourself  in  a  conditional  world,  and,  if 
not  constrained  to  a  new  emigration,  are  yet  inclined  in  se- 
cret to  cherish  such  a  desire. 

"We  have,  therefore,  bound  ourselves  to  renounce  all 
emigration,  and  to  devote  ourselves  to  migration.  Here 
one  does  not  turn  his  back  on  his  native  country  forever, 
but  hopes,  even  after  the  greatest  circuit,  to  arrive  there 
again,  richer,  wiser,  cleverer,  better,  and  whatever  else  such 
a  way  of  life  can  make  him.  Now,  in  society,  all  things  are 
easier,  more  certain  in  their  accomplishment,  than  to  an  in- 
dividual ;  in  which  sense,  my  friend,  consider  what  thou 
shalt  observe  here :  for  whatever  thou  ma}7est  see.  all  and 
every  part  of  it  is  meant  to  forward  a  great,  movable  con- 
nection among  active  and  sufficient  men  of  all  classes. 

"  But  as  where  men  are,  manners  are  too,  I  may  explain 
thus  much  of  our  constitution  by  way  of  preliminary  :  When 
two  of  our  number  anywhere  by  accident  meet,  they  conduct 
themselves  towards  each  other  according  to  their  rank  and 
fashion,  according  to  custom  of  handicraft  or  art,  or  by  some 
other  such  mode  adapted  to  their  mutual  relations.  Three 
meeting  together  are  considered  as  a  unity,  which  governs 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  251 

itself;  but,  if  a  fourth  join  them,  they  instantly  elect  the 
BOND,  one  chief  and  three  subjects.  This  Bond,  however 
many  more  combine  with  them,  can  still  only  be  a  single 
newly  elected  person  ;  for,  in  the  great  as  in  the  small  scale, 
co-regents  are  found  to  be  mutually  obstructive. 

"  Thou  mayest  observe  that  Lenardo  unites,  in  this  way, 
more  than  a  hundred  active  and  able  men,  —  unites,  employs, 
calls  home,  sends  forth ;  as  to-morrow,  an  important  day 
with  us,  thou  wilt  perceive  and  understand.  Thou  wilt  then 
see  the  Bond  dissolved,  the  multitude  divided  into  smaller 
societies,  and  the  Bond  multiplied :  all  the  rest  will  at  the 
same  time  become  clear  to  thee. 

"  But  for  the  present  I  invite  thee  to  a  short  bout  of  read- 
ing. Here,  under  the  shadow  of  these  whispering  trees,  by 
the  side  of  this  still-flowing  water,  let  us  peruse  a  story, 
this  little  paper  which  Lenardo,  from  the  rich  treasures  of 
his  collection,  has  intrusted  to  me ;  that  so  both  of  us  may 
see  thoroughly  what  a  difference  there  is  between  a  mad 
pilgrimage,  such  as  many  lead  in  the  world,  and  a  well-med- 
itated, happily  commenced  undertaking  like  ours,  of  which 
I  shall  at  this  time  say  no  more  in  praise." 

The  quaint,  fitful,  and  most  dainty  story  of  "  The  Foolish 
Pilgrimess,"  w'th  which  our  two  friends  now  occupied  their 
morning,  we  feel  ourselves  constrained,  not  unreluctantly,  by 
certain  grave  calculations,  to  reserve  for  some  future  and 
better  season. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LENARDO,  having  freed  himself  from  business  for  an  hour, 
took  dinner  with-  his  friends ;  and  at  table  he  began  to  ex- 
plain to  them  his  family  circumstances.  His  eldest  sister 
was  married.  A  rich  brother-in-law,  to  the  great  satisfac- 
tion of  the  uncle,  had  undertaken  the  management  of  all  the 
estates  ;  with  him  Valeriua's  husband  was  stoutly  co-operat- 
ing :  they  were  laboring  on  the  great  scale,  strengthening 
their  enterprises  by  connection  with  distant  countries  and 
places. 

Here,  likewise,  our  oldest  friends  once  more  make  their 


252  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

appearance :  Lothario,  Werner,  the  abb<$,  are  on  their  side 
proceeding  in  the  highest  diligence ;  while  Jarno  occupies 
himself  with  mining.  A  general  insurance  has  been  insti- 
tuted :  we  discern  a  vast  property  in  land ;  and  on  this 
depends  the  existence  of  a  large  wandering  society,  the  indi- 
vidual members  of  which,  under  the  condition  of  the  greatest 
possible  usefulness,  are  recommended  to  all  the  world,  are 
forwarded  in  every  undertaking,  and  secured  against  all  mis- 
chances :  while  they  again,  as  scattered  colonists,  may  be 
supposed  to  re-act  on  their  mother  country  with  favorable 
influences. 

Throughout  all  this  we  observe  Lenardo  recognized  as  the 
wandering  Bond :  in  smaller  and  greater  combinations,  he, 
for  most  part,  is  elected ;  on  him  is  placed  the  most  unre- 
stricted confidence. 

So  far  had  the  disclosure,  partly  from  Lenardo,  partly 
from  Friedrich,  proceeded  without  let,  when  both  of  them  on 
a  sudden  became  silent ;  each  seeming  to  have  scruples  about 
communicating  more.  After  a  short  pause,  Wilhelm  ad- 
dressed them,  and  cried,  "What  new  secret  again  suddenly 
overshadows  the  friendliest  explanation?  Will  you  again 
leave  me  in  the  lurch?" 

"  Not  at  all !  "  exclaimed  Friedrich.  "  Do  but  hear  me  ! 
He  has  found  the  nut-brown  maid,  and  for  her  sake  "  — 

"  Not  for  her  sake,"  interrupted  Lenardo. 

"And  just  for  her  sake!"  persisted  Friedrich.  "Do 
not  deceive  yourself :  for  her  sake  you  are  changing  your- 
self into  a  lawful  vagabond ;  as  some  others  of  us,  not,  in 
truth,  for  the  most  praiseworthy  purposes,  have,  in  times 
past,  changed  ourselves  into  lawless  vagrants." 

"Let  us  go  along  calmly,"  said  Lenardo:  "our  friend 
here  must  be  made  acquainted  with  the  state  of  our  affairs  ; 
but,  in  the  first  place,  let  him  have  a  little  touch  of  discipline 
for  himself.  You  had  found  the  nut-brown  maid,  but  to 
me  you  refused  the  knowledge  of  her  abode.  For  this  I 
will  not  blame  you,  but  what  good  did  it  do?  To  discover 
this  secret  I  was  passionately  incited  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
your  sagacious  caution,  I  at  length  came  upon  the  right  trace. 
You  have  seen  the  good  maiden  j-ourself :  her  circumstances 
you  have  accurately  investigated,  and  yet  you  did  not  judge 
them  rightly.  It  is  only  the  loving  who  feels  and  discovers 
what  the  beloved  wishes  and  wants  :  he  can  read  it  in  her  from 
her  deepest  heart.  Let  this  at  present  suffice  :  for  explanation 
we  have  no  time  left  to-day.  To-morrow  I  have  the  hottest 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  253 

press  of  business  to  front :  next  day  we  part.  But  for  your 
information,  composure,  and  participating  interest,  accept 
this  copy  of  a  week  from  my  journal :  it  is  the  best  legacy 
which  I  can  leave  you.  By  reading  it  you  will  not,  indeed, 
become  wiser  than  you  are  and  than  I  am  ;  but  let  this  for 
the  present  suffice.  The  nearest  future,  or  a  more  remote 
one,  will  arrange  and  direct :  that  is  to  say,  in  this  case,  as 
in  so  many  others,  we  know  not  what  is  to  become  of  us." 

By  way  of  dessert  Lenardo  received  a  packet,  at  the  open- 
ing of  which  he,  with  some  tokens  of  surprise,  handed  a  let- 
ter to  Wilhelm.  "  What  secrets,  what  speedy  concerns,  can 
sister  Hersilia  have  with  our  friend  ?  '  To  be  delivered  in- 
stantly and  opened  privately,  without  the  'presence  of  any 
one,  friend  or  stranger !  '  Let  us  give  him  all  possible  con- 
venience, Friedrich:  let  us  withdraw!"  Wilhelm  hastily 
broke  open  the  sheet,  and  read,  — 


Hersilia  to  Wilhelm. 

Wherever  this  letter  may  reach  you,  my  noble  friend,  to  a 
certainty  it  will  find  you  in  some  nook  where*you  are  striving 
in  vain  to  hide  from  yourself.  By  making  you  acquainted 
with  my  two  fair  dames,  I  have  done  you  a  sorry  service. 

But  wherever  you  may  be  lurking,  and  doubtless  it  will 
search  you  out,  my  promise  is,  that  if,  after  reading  this 
letter,  you  do  not  forthwith  leap  from  your  seat,  and,  like  a 
pious  pilgrim,  appear  in  my  presence  without  delay,  I  must 
declare  3*011  to  be  the  manliest  of  all  men  ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
one  most  completely  void  of  the  finest  property  belonging  to 
our  sex  :  I  mean  curiosity,  which  at  this  moment  is  afflicting 
me  in  its  sharpest  concentration. 

In  one  word,  then,  your  casket  has  now  got  its  key :  this, 
however,  none  but  you  and  I  are  to  know.  How  it  came 
into  my  hands  let  me  now  tell  you. 

Some  days  ago  our  man  of  law  gets  despatches  from  a 
distant  tribunal ;  wherein  he  was  asked  if,  at  such  and  such 
a  time,  there  had  not  been  a  boy  prowling  about  our  neigh- 
borhood who  had  played  all  manner  of  tricks,  and  at  length, 
in  a  rash  enterprise,  lost  his  jacket. 

By  the  way  this  brat  was  described,  no  doubt  remained  with 
us  but  he  was  Fitz,  —  the  gay  comrade  whom  Felix  talked  so 
much  of,  and  so  often  wished  back  to  play  with  him. 

Now,  for  the  present,  those  authorities  request  that  said 


254  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

article  of  dress  may  be  sent  to  them  if  it  is  still  in  existence  ; 
as  the  boy,  at  last  involved  in  judicial  examinations,  refers 
to  it.  Of  this  demand  our  lawyer  chances  to  make  mention  : 
he  shows  us  the  little  frock  before  sending  it  off. 

Some  good  or  evil  spirit  whispers  me  to  grope  the  breast- 
pocket :  a  little,  angular,  prickly  something  comes  into  my 
hand ;  I,  so  timorous,  ticklish,  and  startlish  as  I  usually  am, 
clinch  my  hand,  clinch  it,  hold  my  peace  ;  and  the  jerkin  is 
sent  away.  Directly,  of  all  feelings,  the  strangest  seizes  me. 
At  the  first  stolen  glance  I  saw,  I  guessed,  that  it  was  the  key 
of  your  little  box.  And  now  came  wondrous  scruples  of  con- 
science, and  all  sorts  of  moral  doubts.  To  discover,  to  give 
back  my  windfall,  was  impossible ;  what  have  those  loug- 
wigged  judges  to  do  with  it  when  it  may  be  so  useful  to  my 
friend  ?  And  then,  again,  all  manner  of  questions  about  right 
and  dut}T  begin  lifting  up  their  voices ;  but  I  would  not  let 
them  outvote  me. 

From  this  you  perceive  into  what  a  situation  my  friendship 
for  you  has  reduced  me  :  a  choice  faculty  develops  itself  all 
on  a  sudden  for  your  sake  ;  what  an  occurrence  !  May  it  not 
be  something  more  than  friendship  that  so  holds  the  balance 
of  my  conscience?  Between  guilt  and  curiosity  I  am  won- 
derfully discomposed ;  I  have  a  hundred  whims  and  stories 
about  what  may  follow  :  law  and  judgment  will  not  be  trifled 
with.  Hersilia,  the  careless,  and,  as  occasion  served,  capri- 
cious Hersilia,  entangled  in  a  criminal  process  ;  for  this  is  the 
scope  and  tendency  of  it !  And  what  can  I  do  but  think  of 
the  friend  for  whose  sake  I  suffer  all  this  ?  I  thought  of  you 
before,  yet  with  pauses  ;  but  now  I  think  of  you  incessantly  : 
now  when  my  heart  throbs,  and  I  think  of  the  eighth  com- 
mandment, I  must  turn  to  you  as  to  the  saint  who  has  caused 
this  sin,  and  will  also  procure  me  an  absolution ;  thus  the 
opening  of  the  casket  is  the  only  thing  that  can  compose  me. 
My  curiosity  is  growing  stronger  and  doubly  strong :  come, 
and  bring  the  casket  with  you.  To  what  judgment-seat 
it  properly  belongs  we  will  make  out  between  us :  till  then 
let  it  remain  between  us ;  no  one  must  know  of  it,  be  who 
he  will. 

But  now,  in  conclusion,  look  here,  my  friend.  And  tell 
me,  what  say  you  to  this  picture  of  the  riddle  ?  Does  it  not 
remind  you  of  arrows  with  barbs?  God  help  us!  But  the 
box  must  first  stand  unopened  between  you  and  me,  and 
then,  when  opened,  tell  us  further  what  we  have  to  do.  I 
wish  there  were  nothing  whatever  in  it ;  and  who  knows  what 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  ?CD 

all  I  wish,  and  what  all  I  could  tell?  but  do  you  look  at  this, 
and  hasten  so  much  the  faster  to  get  upon  the  road. 


Friedrich  returned  more  gay  and  lively  than  he  had  gone. 
"Good  news!  "  cried  he:  "good  luck!  Lenardo  has  re- 
ceived some  pretty  letters  to  facilitate  the  parting :  credit 
more  than  sufficient ;  and  thou,  too,  shalt  have  thy  share  in  it. 
Fortune  herself  surely  knows  not  what  she  is  about ;  for  once 
in  her  time  she  has  done  wise,  worthy  fellows  a  favor." 

Hereupon  he  handed  to  his  friend  some  clipped  fragments 
of  maps,  with  directions  where  they  were  to  be  produced, 
and  changed  for  hard  cash  or  bills,  as  he  might  choose. 
Wilhelm  was  obliged  to  accept  them  ;  though  he  kept  assuring 
his  companion,  that  for  the  present  he  had  no  need  of  such 
things.  "  Then,  others  will  need  them!"  cried  Friedrich: 
"  constrain  not  thy  good  feelings,  and,  wherever  thou  art, 
appear  as  a  benefactor.  But  now  come  along,  let  us  have 
a  look  at  this  manuscript :  it  is  long  till  night ;  one  tires  of 
talking  and  listening,  so  I  have  begged  some  writing  for  our 
entertainment.  Every  leaf  in  Lenardo's  archives  is  penned 
in  the  spirit  of  the  whole  :  in  giving  me  this,  he  said,  '  Well, 
take  it  and  read  it :  our  friend  will  acquire  more  confidence 
in  our  society  and  Bond,  the  more  good  members  he  becomes 
acquainted  with.' ' 

The  two  then  retired  to  a  cheerful  spot;  and  Friedrich 
read,  enlivening  with  much  natural  energy  and  mirth,  what 
he  found  set  down  for  him. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 


WHO   CAN   THE   TRAITOR   BE? 

"  No,  no !  "  exclaimed  he,  violently  and  hastily  rushing 
into  the  chamber  allotted  him,  and  setting  down  his  candle, 
—  "no!  it  is  impossible!  But  whither  shall  I  turn?  For 
the  first  time  I  think  otherwise  than  he :  for  the  first  time  I 
feel,  I  wish,  otherwise.  O  father!  couldst  thou  but  be 
present  invisibly,  couldst  thou  but  look  through  and  through 
me,  thou  wouldst  see  that  I  am  still  the  same,  still  thy  true, 
obedient,  affectionate  son.  Yet  to  say  no !  To  contradict 
my  father's  dearest,  long-cherished  wish !  How  shall  I  dis- 
close it  ?  How  shall  I  express  it  ?  No :  I  cannot  marry 
Julia !  While  I  speak  of  it,  I  shudder.  And  how  shall  I 
appear  before  him,  tell  him  this,  him,  the  good,  kind  father? 
He  looks  at  me  with  astonishment,  without  speaking :  the 
prudent,  clear-sighted,  gifted  man  can  find  no  words. 
"Woe  is  me !  Ah !  I  know  well  to  whom  I  would  confide 
this  pain,  this  perplexity,  who  it  is  I  would  choose  for  my 
advocate.  Before  all  others,  thou,  Lucinda !  And  I  would 
first  tell  thee  how  I  love  thee,  how  I  give  myself  to  thee, 
and  pressingly  entreat  thee  to  speak  for  me,  and  if  thou 
canst  love  me  again,  if  thou  wilt  be  mine,  to  speak  for  us 
both." 

To  explain  this  short,  pithy  monologue  will  require  some 
details. 

Professor  N.  of  N.  had  an  only  boy  of  singular  beauty, 
whom,  till  the  child's  eighth  3rear,  he  had  left  entirely  in 
charge  of  his  wife.  This  excellent  woman  had  directed  the 
hours  and  days  of  her  son  in  living,  learning,  and  all  good 
behavior.  She  died ;  and  the  father  instantly  felt,  that  to 
prosecute  this  parental  tutelage  was  impossible.  In  their 
lifetime,  all  had  been  harmony  between  the  parents :  they 
had  labored  for  a  common  aim,  had  determined  in  concert 
what  was  next  to  be  done  ;  and  the  mother  had  not  wanted 
skill  to  execute  wisely,  by  herself,  what  the  two  had  planned 
together.  Double  and  treble  was  now  the  widower's  anxiety  ; 
seeing,  as  he  could  not  but  daily  see,  that  for  the  sons  of 
professors,  even  in  universities,  it  was  only  by  a  sort 
of  miracle  that  a  happy  education  could  be  expected. 

In  this  strait  he  applied  to  his  friend,  the  Oberamtmann  of 
R.,  with  whom  he  had  already  been  treating  of  plans  for  a 
closer  alliance  between  their  families.  The  Oberamtmann 
gave  him  counsel  and  assistance  :  so  the  son  was  established 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  257 

in  one  of  those  institutions  which  still  flourish  in  Germany, 
and  where  charge  is  taken  of  the  whole  man,  and  body,  soul, 
and  spirit  are  trained  with  all  attention. 

The  son  was  thus  provided  for :  the  father,  however,  felt 
himself  very  lonely,  robbed  of  his  wife,  shut  out  from  the 
cheerful  presence  of  the  boy,  whom  he  had  seen,  without 
effort  of  his,  growing  up  in  such  desirable  culture.  But 
here,  again,  the  friendship  of  the  Oberamtmann  served  him  in 
good  stead :  the  distance  of  their  abodes  vanished  before  hia 
affection,  his  desire  for  movement,  for  diversion  of  thought. 
In  this  hospitable  home  the  widowed  man  of  letters  found,  in 
a  family  circle,  motherless  like  his  own,  two  beautiful  little 
daughters  growing  up  in  diverse  loveliness :  a  state  of  things 
which  more  and  more  confirmed  the  fathers  in  their  purpose, 
in  their  hope,  of  one  day  seeing  their  families  united  in  the 
most  joyful  bonds. 

They  lived  under  the  sway  of  a  mild,  good  prince :  the 
meritorious  Oberamtmann  was  certain  of  his  post  during  life  ; 
and,  in  the  appointment  of  a  successor,  his  recommendation 
was  likely  to  go  far.  And  now,  according  to  the  wise  fam- 
ily arrangement,  sanctioned  also  by  the  minister,  Lucidor 
was  to  train  himself  for  the  important  office  of  his  future 
father-in-law.  This  in  consequence  he  did,  from  step  to 
step.  Nothing  was  neglected  in  communicating  to  him  all 
sorts  of  knowledge,  in  developing  in  him  all  sorts  of  activity, 
which  the  state  in  any  case  requires,  —  practice  in  rigorous 
judicial  law,  and  also  in  the  laxer  sort,  where  prudence  and 
address  find  their  proper  field  ;  foresight  for  daily  ways  and 
means  ;  not  excluding  higher  and  more  comprehensive  views, 
yet  all  tending  towards  practical  life,  and  so  as  with  effect 
and  certainty  to  be  employed  in  its  concerns. 

With  such  purposes  had  Lucidor  spent  his  school  years : 
by  his  father  and  his  patron  he  was  now  warned  to  make 
ready  for  the  university.  In  all  departments  he  already 
showed  the  fairest  talents  ;  and  to  nature  he  was  further  in- 
debted for  the  singular  happiness  of  inclining,  out  of  love 
for  his  father,  out  of  respect  for  his  friend,  to  turn  his  capa- 
bilities, first  from  obedience,  then  from  conviction,  on  that 
very  object  to  which  he  was  directed.  He  was  placed  in  a 
foreign  university  ;  and  here,  both  by  his  own  account  in  his 
letters,  and  by  the  testimony  of  his  teachers  and  overseers, 
he  continued  walking  in  the  path  that  led  towards  his  ap- 
pointed goal.  It  was  only  objected  to  him,  that  in  certain 
eases  he  had  been  too  impetuously  brave.  The  father  shook 


258  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

his  head  at  this :  the  Oberamtmann  nodded.  "Who  would 
not  have  been  proud  of  such  a  son  ? 

Meanwhile  the  two  daughters,  Julia  and  Lucinda,  were 
waxing  in  stature  and  graces.  Julia,  the  younger,  waggish, 
lovely,  unstable,  highly  entertaining ;  the  other  difficult  to 
portray,  for  in  her  sincerity  and  purity  she  represented  all 
that  we  prize  most  in  woman.  Visits  were  paid  and  repaid  ; 
and,  in  the  professor's  house,  Julia  found  the  most  inex- 
haustible amusement. 

Geography,  which  he  failed  not  to  enliven  by  topography, 
belonged  to  his  province ;  and  no  sooner  did  Julia  cast  her 
eyes  on  any  of  the  volumes,  of  which  a  whole  series  from 
Homann's  warehouse  were  standing  there,  than  the  cities,  all 
and  sundry,  had  to  be  mustered,  judged,  preferred,  or  re- 
jected :  all  havens  especially  obtained  her  favor ;  other  towns, 
to  acquire  even  a  slight  approval  from  her,  must  stand  forth 
well  supplied  with  steeples,  domes,  and  minarets. 

Julia's  father  often  left  her  for  weeks  to  the  care  of  his 
tried  friend.  She  was  actually  advancing  in  knowledge  of 
her  science ;  and  already  the  inhabited  world,  in  its  main 
features,  in  its  chief  points  and  places,  stood  before  her  with 
some  accuracy  and  distinctness.  The  garbs  of  foreign  na- 
tions attracted  her  peculiar  attention ;  and  often  when  her 
foster-father  asked  her  in  jest,  If  among  the  many  young, 
handsome  men  who  were  passing  to  and  fro  before  her  win- 
dow, there  was  not  some  one  or  other  whom  she  liked  ?  she 
would  answer,  "  Yes,  indeed  !  if  he  do  but  look  odd  enough." 
And,  as  our  young  students  are  seldom  behindhand  in  this 
particular,  she  had  often  occasion  to  take  notice  of  individu- 
als among  them  ;  they  brought  to  her  mind  the  costume  of 
foreign  nations :  however,  she  declared  in  the  end,  that,  if 
she  was  to  bestow  her  undivided  attention  on  any  one,  he 
must  be  at  least  a  Greek,  equipped  in  the  complete  fashion 
of  his  country ;  on  which  account,  also,  she  longed  to  be  at 
some  Leipzig  fair,  where,  as  she  understood,  such  persons 
were  to  be  seen  walking  the  streets. 

After  his  dry  and  often  irksome  labors,  our  teacher  had 
now  no  happier  moments  than  those  he  spent  in  mirthfully 
instructing  her ;  triumphing  withal,  in  secret,  that  a  being 
so  attractive,  ever  entertaining,  ever  entertained,  was  in  the 
end  to  be  his  own  daughter.  For  the  rest,  the  two  fathers 
had  mutually  agreed,  that  no  hint  of  their  purpose  should 
be  communicated  to  the  girls :  from  Lucidor,  also,  it  was 
kept  secret. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  259 

Thus  had  years  passed  away,  as,  indeed,  they  very  lightly 
pass  :  Lucidor  presented  himself  completed,  having  stood  all 
trials  to  the  joy,  even  of  the  superior  overseers,  who  wished 
nothing  more  heartily  than  being  able,  with  a  good  con- 
science, to  fulfil  the  hopes  of  old,  worthy,  favored,  and  de- 
serving servants. 

And  so  the  business  had  at  length  by  quiet,  regular  steps 
come  so  far,  that  Lucidor,  after  having  demeaned  himself  in 
subordinate  stations  to  universal  satisfaction,  was  now  to  be 
placed  in  a  veiy  advantageous  post,  suitable  to  his  wishes 
and  merits,  and  lying  just  midway  between  the  university 
and  the  Oberamtmann-sliip. 

The  father  now  spoke  with  his  son  about  Julia,  of  whom 
he  had  hitherto  only  hinted,  as  about  his  bride  and  wife, 
without  any  doubt  or  condition ;  congratulating  him  on  the 
happiness  of  having  appropriated  such  a  jewel  to  himself. 
The  professor  saw  in  fancy  his  daughter-in-law  again  from 
time  to  time  in  his  house,  occupied  with  charts,  plans,  and 
views  of  cities :  the  son  recalled  to  mind  the  gay  and  most 
lovely  creature,  who,  in  times  of  childhood,  had,  by  her 
rogueries  as  by  her  kindliness,  always  delighted  him.  Luci- 
dor was  now  to  ride  over  to  the  Oberamtmann's,  to  take  a 
closer  view  of  the  full-grown  fair  one,  and,  for  a  few  weeks, 
to  surrender  himself  to  the  habitudes  and  familiarity  of  her 
household.  If  the  young  people,  as  was  to  be  hoped,  should 
speedily  agree,  the  professor  was  forthwith  to  appear,  that 
so  a  solemn  betrothmeut  might  forever  secure  the  anticipated 
happiness. 

Lucidor  arrives,  is  received  with  the  friendliest  welcome  : 
a  chamber  is  allotted  him ;  he  arranges  himself  there,  and 
appears.  And  now  he  finds,  besides  the  members  of  the 
family  already  known  to  us,  a  grown-up  son,  —  misbred  cer- 
tainly, yet  shrewd  and  good-natured  ;  so  that,  if  you  like  to 
take  him  as  the  jesting  counsellor  of  the  party,  he  fitted  not 
ill  with  the  rest.  There  belonged,  moreover,  to  the  house  a 
very  old,  but  healthy  and  gay-hearted,  man,  quiet,  wise,  dis- 
creet ;  completing  his  life,  as  it  were,  and  here  and  there  re- 
quiring a  little  help.  Directly  after  Lucidor,  too,  there  had 
arrived  another  stranger,  no  longer  young,  of  an  impressive 
aspect,  dignified,  thoroughly  well-bred,  and,  by  his  acquaint- 
ance, with  the  most  distant  quarters  of  the  world,  extremely 
entertaining.  H«  was  called  Antoni. 

Julia  received  her  announced  bridegroom  in  fit  order,  yet 
with  an  excess  rather  than  a  defect  of  frankness  :  Luciuda, 


260  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

on  the  other  hand,  did  the  honors  of  the  house  ;  as  her  sister 
did  those  of  herself.  So  passed  the  day,  peculiarly  agree- 
able to  all,  only  to  Lucidor  not :  he,  at  all  times  silent,  had 
been  forced,  that  he  might  avoid  sinking  dumb  entirely,  to 
employ  himself  in  asking  questions ;  and  in  this  attitude  no 
one  appeal's  to  advantage. 

Throughout  he  had  been  absent-minded ;  for  at  the  first 
glance  he  had  felt,  not  aversion  or  repugnance,  yet  estrange- 
ment, towards  Julia :  Lucinda,  on  the  contrary,  attracted 
him  ;  so  that  he  trembled  every  time  she  looked  at  him  with 
her  full,  pure,  peaceful  eyes. 

Thus  hard  bested,  he  reached  his  chamber  the  first  night, 
and  gave  vent  to  his  heart  in  that  soliloquy  with  which  we 
began.  But  to  explain  this  sufficiently,  to  show  how  the 
violence  of  such  an  emphatic  speech  agrees  with  what  we 
know  of  him  already,  another  little  statement  will  be  neces- 
sary. 

Lucidor  was  of  a  deep  character,  and  for  most  part  had 
something  else  in  his  mind  than  what  the  present  scene 
required :  hence  talk  and  social  conversation  would  never 
prosper  rightly  with  him  ;  he  felt  this,  and  was  wont  to  con- 
tinue silent,  except  when  the  topic  happened  to  be  particu- 
lar, on  some  department  which  he  had  completely  studied, 
and  of  which,  whatever  he  needed  was  at  all  times  ready. 
Besides  this,  in  his  early  years  at  school,  and  later  at  the 
university,  he  had  been  deceived  in  friends,  and  had  wasted 
the  effusions  of  his  heart  unhappily :  hence  even'  communi- 
cation of  his  feelings  seemed  to  him  a  doubtful  step,  and 
doubting  destroj's  all  such  communication.  With  his  father 
he  was  used  to  speak  only  in  unison  :  therefore  his  full  heart 
poured  itself  out  in  monologues,  as  soon  as  he  was  by  him- 
self. 

Next  morning  he  had  summoned  up  his  resolution ;  and 
yet  he  almost  lost  heart  and  composure  again,  when  Julia 
met  him  with  still  more  friendliness,  gayety,  and  frankness 
than  ever.  She  had  much  to  ask,  —  about  his  journey  by 
land  and  journeys  by  water ;  how,  when  a  student,  with  his 
knapsack  on  his  back,  he  had  roamed  and  climbed  through 
Switzerland,  —  nay,  crossed  the  Alps  themselves.  And  now 
of  those  fair  islands  on  the  great  Southern  Lake  she  had 
much  to  say :  and  then  backwards,  the  Rhine  must  be  ac- 
companied from  his  primary  origin  ;  at  first,  through  most 
undelicious  regions,  and  so  downwards  through  many  an 
alternation,  till  at  length,  between  Maynz  and  Coblenz, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  261 

you  find  it  still  worth  while  respectfully  to  dismiss  the  old 
River  from  his  last  confinement,  into  the  wide  world,  into 
the  sea. 

Lucidor,  in  the  course  of  this  recital,  felt  much  lightened 
in  heart ;  he  narrated  willingly  and  well :  so  that  Julia  at 
last  exclaimed  in  rapture,  "It  is  thus  that  our  other  self 
should  be !  "  At  which  phrase  Lucidor  again  felt  startled 
and  frightened,  thinking  he  saw  in  it  an  allusion  to  their 
future  pilgrimage  in  common  through  life. 

From  his  narrative  duty,  however,  he  was  soon  relieved ; 
for  the  stranger,  Antoni,  very  speedily  overshadowed  all 
mountain  streams,  and  rocky  banks,  and  rivers,  whether 
hemmed  in  or  left  at  liberty.  Under  his  guidance  you  now 
went  forward  to  Genoa ;  Livoruo  lay  at  no  great  distance  ; 
whatever  was  most  interesting  in  the  country  you  took  with 
you  as  fair  spoil ;  Naples,  too,  was  a  place  you  should  see 
before  you  died ;  and  then,  in  truth,  remained  Constantino- 
ple, which  also  was  by  no  means  to  be  neglected.  Antoni's 
descriptions  of  the  wide  world  carried  the  imagination  of 
every  hearer  along  with  him,  though  Antoni  himself  intro- 
duced little  fire  into  the  subject.  Julia,  quite  enraptured, 
was  still  nowise  satisfied  :  she  longed  for  Alexandria,  Cairo, 
and,  above  all,  for  the  pyramids ;  of  which,  by  the  lessons 
of  her  intended  father-in-law,  she  had  gained  some  mod- 
erate knowledge. 

Lucidor,  next  night  (he  had  scarcely  shut  his  door,  the  can- 
dle he  had  not  put  down),  exclaimed,  "Now,  bethink  thee, 
then :  it  is  growing  serious !  Thou  hast  studied  and  medi- 
tated many  serious  things :  what  avails  thy  law-learning  if 
thou  canst  not  act  like  a  man  of  law?  View  thyself  as  a 
delegate,  forget  thy  own  feelings,  and  do  what  it  would  be- 
hoove thee  to  do  for  another.  It  thickens  and  closes  round 
me  horribly !  The  stranger  is  plainly  come  for  the  sake  of 
Lucinda ;  she  shows  him  the  fairest,  noblest  social  and  hos- 
pitable attentions :  that  little  fool  would  run  through  the 
world  with  any  one  for  any  thing  or  nothing.  Besides,  she 
is  a  wag :  her  interest  in  cities  and  countries  is  a  farce,  by 
which  she  keeps  us  in  silence.  But  why  do  I  look  at  the 
affair  so  perplexedly,  so  narrowly?  Is  not  the  Oberamt- 
mdnn  himself  the  most  judicious,  the  clearest,  the  kindest 
mediator?  Thou  wilt  tell  him  how  thou  feelest  and  think- 
est ;  and  he  will  think  with  thee,  if  not  likewise  feel.  With 
thy  father  he  has  all  influence.  And  is  not  the  one  as  well 
as  the  other  his  daughter?  What  would  this  Antoui  the 


262  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

traveller  with  Lucinda,  who  is  born  for  home,  to  be  happy 
and  to  make  happy  ?  Let  the  wavering  quicksilver  fasten 
itself  to  the  Wandering  Jew  :  that  will  be  a  right  match." 

Next  morning  Lucidor  came  down  with  the  firm  purpose 
of  speaking  with  the  father,  and  waiting  on  him  expressly 
to  that  end,  at  the  hour  when  he  knew  him  to  be  disen- 
gaged. How  great  was  his  vexation,  his  perplexity,  on 
learning  that  the  Oberamtmann  had  been  called  away  on 
business,  and  was  not  expected  till  the  day  after  the  mor- 
row !  Julia,  on  this  occasion,  seemed  to  be  expressly  in 
her  travelling-fit ;  she  kept  by  the  world  wanderer,  and, 
with  some  sportive  hits  at  domestic  economy,  gave  up  Luci- 
dor to  Lucinda.  If  our  friend,  viewing  this  noble  maiden 
from  a  certain  distance,  and  under  one  general  impression, 
had  already,  with  his  whole  heart,  loved  her,  he  failed  not 
now  in  this  nearest  nearness  to  discover  with  double  and 
treble  vividness  in  detail  all  that  had  before  as  a  whole 
attracted  him. 

The  good  old  friend  of  the  family  now  brought  himself  for- 
ward in  place  of  the  absent  father :  he,  too,  had  lived,  had 
loved,  and  was  now,  after  many  hard  buffetings  and  bruises 
of  life,  resting  at  last,  refreshed  and  cheerful,  beside  the 
friend  of  his  youth.  He  enlivened  the  conversation,  and 
especially  expatiated  on  perplexities  in  choice  of  wives ; 
relating  several  remarkable  examples  of  explanations,  both 
in  time  and  too  late.  Lucinda  appeared  in  all  her  splendor. 
She  admitted,  that  accident  in  all  departments  of  life,  and 
so  likewise  in  the  business  of  marriage,  often  produced  the 
best  result ;  yet  that  it  was  finer  and  prouder  when  one  could 
say  he  owed  his  happiness  to  himself,  to  the  silent,  calm 
conviction  of  his  heart,  to  a  noble  purpose  and  a  quick  de- 
termination. Tears  stood  in  Lucidor's  eyes  as  he  applauded 
this  sentiment :  directly  afterward  sthe  two  ladies  went  out. 
The  old  president  liked  well  to  deal  in  illustrative  histories  ; 
and  so  the  conversation  expanded  itself  into  details  of  pleas- 
ant instances,  which,  however,  touched  our  hero  so  closely 
that  none  but  a  youth  of  as  delicate  manners  as  his  could 
have  refrained  from  breaking  out  with  his  secret.  He  did 
break  out  so  soon  as  he  was  by  himself. 

"  I  have  constrained  nryself !  "  exclaimed  he  :  "  with  such 
perplexities  I  will  not  vex  my  good  father ;  I  have  forborne 
to  speak,  for  I  see  in  this  worthy  old  man  the  substitute  of 
both  fathers.  To  him  will  I  speak,  to  him  disclose  the 
whole :  he  will  surely  bring  it  about ;  he  has  already  almost 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  263 

spoken  what  I  wish.  Will  he  censure  in  the  individual  case 
what  he  praises  in  general?  To-morrow  I  visit  him  :  I  must 
give  vent  to  this  oppression." 

At  breakfast  the  old  man  was  not  present :  last  night  he 
had  spoken,  it  appeared,  too  much,  had  sat  too  long,  and 
likewise  drunk  a  drop  or  two  of  wine  beyond  his  custom. 
Much  was  said  in  his  praise :  man}'  anecdotes  were  related, 
and  precisely  of  such  sayings  and  doings  as  brought  Lucidor 
to  despair  for  not  having  forthwith  applied  to  him.  This 
unpleasant  feeling  was  but  aggravated  when  he  learned,  that, 
in  such  attacks  of  disorder,  the  good  old  man  would  often  not 
make  his  re-appearance  for  a  week. 

For  social  converse  a  country  residence  has  many  advan- 
tages, especially  when  the  owners  of  it  have,  for  a  course 
of  years,  been  induced,  as  thinking  and  feeling  persons,  to 
improve  the  natural  capabilities  of  their  environs.  Such 
had  been  the  good  fortune  of  this  spot.  The  Oberamt- 
inann,  at  first  unwedded,  then  in  a  long,  happy  marriage, 
himself  a  man  of  fortune,  and  occupying  a  lucrative  post, 
had,  according  to  his  own  judgment  and  perception,  accord- 
ing to  the  taste  of  his  wife,  —  nay,  at  last  according  to  the 
wishes  and  whims  of  his  children,  —  laid  out  and  forwarded 
many  larger  and  smaller  decorations  ;  which,  by  degrees,  be- 
ing skilfully  connected  with  plantations  and  paths,  afforded  to 
the  promenader  a  very  beautiful,  continually  varying,  charac- 
teristic series  of  scenes.  A  pilgrimage  through  these  our 
young  hosts  now  proposed  to  their  guest ;  as  in  general  we 
take  pleasure  in  showing  our  improvements  to  a  stranger, 
that  so  what  has  become  habitual  in  our  eyes  may  appear 
with  the  charm  of  novelty  in  his,  and  leave  with  him,  in  per- 
manent remembrance,  its  first  favorable  impression. 

The  nearest,  as  well  as  the  most  distant,  part  of  the 
grounds  was  peculiarly  appropriate  for  modest  decorations, 
and  altogether  rural  individualities.  Fertile  hills  alternated 
with  well-watered  meadows,  so  that  the  whole  was  visible 
from  time  to  time  without  being  flat ;  and,  if  the  land  seemed 
chiefly  devoted  to  purposes  of  utility,  the  graceful,  the  at- 
tractive, was  by  no  means  excluded. 

To  the  dwelling  and  office  houses  were  united  various 
gardens,  orchards,  and  green  spaces ;  out  of  which  you 
imperceptibly  passed  into  a  little  wood  with  a  broad,  clear 
carriage-road,  winding  up  and  down  through  the  midst  of 
it.  Here,  in  a  central  spot,  on  the  most  considerable  ele- 
vation, there  had  been  a  hall  erected,  with  side-chambers 


264  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

entering  from  it.  On  coming  through  the  main  door  you 
saw,  in  a  large  mirror,  the  most  favorable  prospect  which 
the  country  afforded,  and  were  sure  to  turn  round  that  in- 
stant, to  recover  yourself  on  the  reality  from  the  effect  of 
this  its  unexpected  image ;  for  the  approach  was  artfully 
enough  contrived,  and  all  that  could  excite  surprise  was 
carefully  hid  till  the  last  moment.  No  one  entered  but  felt 
pleasurably  tempted  to  turn  from  the  mirror  to  nature,  and 
from  nature  to  the  mirror. 

Once  in  motion  in  this  fairest,  brightest,  longest  day,  our 
party  made  a  spiritual  campaign  of  it,  over  and  through  the 
whole.  Here  the  daughters  pointed  out  the  evening-seat  of 
their  good  mother,  where  a  stately  box-tree  had  kept  clear 
space  all  round  it.  A  little  farther  on  Lucinda's  place  of 
morning  prayer  was  half- roguishly  exhibited  by  Julia,  close 
to  a  little  brook,  between  poplars  and  alders,  with  meadows 
sloping  down  from  it,  and  fields  stretching  upwards.  It 
was  indescribably  pretty.  You  thought  you  had  seen  such 
a  spot  everywhere,  but  nowhere  so  impressive  and  so  per- 
fect in  its  simplicity.  In  return  for  this  the  young  master, 
also  half  against  Julia's  will,  pointed  out  the  tiny  groves, 
and  child's  gardens  which,  close  by  a  snug-lying  mill,  were 
now  scarcely  discernible  :  they  dated  from  a  time  when  Julia, 
perhaps  in  her  tenth  year,  had  taken  it  into  her  head  to  be- 
come a  milleress  ;  intending,  after  the  decease  of  the  two  old 
occupants,  to  assume  the  management  herself,  and  choose 
some  brave  millman  for  her  husband. 

"  That  was  at  a  time,"  cried  Julia,  "  when  I  knew  nothing 
of  towns  lying  on  rivers,  or  even  on  the  sea,  —  nothing  of 
Genoa,  of  Naples,  and  the  like.  Your  worthy  father,  Luci- 
dor,  has  con  verted  me  :  of  late  I  come  seldom  hither."  She 
sat  down  with  a  roguish  air,  and  on  a  little  bench,  that  was 
now  scarcely  large  enough  for  her,  under  an  elder-bough, 
which  had  bent  deeply  towards  the  ground.  "Fie  on  this 
cowering  !  "  cried  she,  then  started  up,  and  ran  off  with  her 
gay  brother. 

The  remaining  pair  kept  up  a  rational  conversation,  and 
in  these  cases  reason  approaches  close  to  the  borders  of  feel- 
ing. AVandering  over  changeful,  simple,  natural  objects,  to 
contemplate  at  leisure  how  cunning,  scheming  man  contrives 
to  gain  some  profit  from  them ;  how  his  perception  of  what 
is  laid  before  him,  combining  with  the  feeling  of  his  wants, 
does  wonders,  first  in  rendering  the  world  inhabitable,  then 
in  peopling  it,  and  at  last  in  over-peopling  it, — all  this 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  265 

could  here  be  talked  of  in  detail.  Lucinda  gave  account 
of  every  thing ;  and,  modest  as  she  was,  she  could  not 
hide  that  these  pleasant  and  convenient  combinations  of 
distant  parts  by  roads  had  been  her  work,  under  the  pro- 
posal, direction,  or  favor  of  her  revered  mother. 

But  as,  the  longest  day  at  last  bends  down  to  evening,  our 
party  were  at  last  forced  to  think  of  returning :  and,  while 
devising  some  pleasant  circuit,  the  merry  brother  proposed 
that  they  should  take  the  short  road ;  though  it  commanded 
no  tine  prospects,  and  was  even  in  some  places  more  difficult 
to  get  over.  "  For,"  cried  he,  "  you  have  preached  all  day 
about  your  decorations  and  reparations,  and  how  you  have 
improved  and  beautified  the  scene  for  pictorial  eyes  aud  feel- 
ing hearts :  let  me,  also,  have  my  turn." 

Accordingly,  they  now  set  forth  over  ploughed  grounds,  by 
coarse  paths,  nay,  sometimes  picking  their  way  by  stepping- 
stones  in  boggy  places ;  till  at  last  they  perceived,  at  some 
distance,  a  pile  of  machinery  towering  up  in  manifold  com- 
bination. More  closely  examined,  it  turned  out  to  be  a 
large  apparatus  for  sport  and  games,  arranged,  not  without 
judgment,  and  in  a  certain  popular  spirit.  Here,  fixed  at 
suitable  distances,  stood  a  large  swing-wheel,  on  which  the 
ascending  and  the  descending  riders  might  still  sit  horizon- 
tally and  at  their  ease  ;  other  seesaws,  swing-ropes,  leaping- 
poles,  bowling  and  ninepins  courses,  and  whatever  can  be 
fancied  for  variedly  and  equally  employing  and  diverting  a 
crowd  of  people  gathered  on  a  large  common.  "  This,"  cried 
he,  "  is  my  invention,  my  decoration  !  And  though  my  father 
found  the  money,  and  a  shrewd  fellow  the  brain  necessary 
for  it,  yet  without  me,  whom  you  often  call  a  person  of  no 
judgment,  money  and  brain  would  not  have  come  together." 

In  this  cheerful  mood  the  whole  four  reached  home  by 
sunset.  Antoni  also  joined  them ;  but  the  little  Julia,  not 
yet  satisfied  with  this  unresting  travel,  ordered  her  coach, 
and  set  forth  on  a  visit  to  a  lady  of  her  friends,  in  utter 
despair  at  not  having  seen  her  for  two  days.  The  party  left 
behind  began  to  feel  embarrassed  before  they  were  aware  : 
it  was  even  mentioned  in  words  that  the  father's  absence 
distressed  them.  The  conversation  was  about  to  stagnate, 
when  all  at  once  the  madcap  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  in  a 
few  moments  returned  with  a  book,  proposing  to  read  to  the 
company.  Lucinda  forbore  not  to  inquire  how  this  notion 
had  occurred  to  him,  now  for  the  first  time  in  a  twelvemonth. 
"Every  thing  occurs  to  me,"  said  he,  "at  the  proper 


266  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

season:  this  is  more  than  you  can  say  for  yourself."  Ho 
read  them  a  series  of  genuine  antique  tales,  such  as  lead 
man  away  from  himself,  flattering  his  wishes,  and  making 
him  forget  all  those  restrictions  between  which,  even  in  the 
happiest  moments,  we  are  still  hemmed  in. 

"  What  shall  I  do  now?  "  cried  Lucidor,  when  at  last  he 
saw  himself  alone.  "The  hour  presses  on:  in  Antoni  I 
have  no  trust;  he  is  an  utter  stranger;  I  know  not  who 
he  is,  how  he  comes  to  be  here,  nor  what  he  wants  :  Lucinda 
seems  to  be  his  object ;  and,  if  so,  what  can  I  expect  of  him  ? 
Nothing  remains  for  me  but  applying  to  Lucinda  herself : 
she  must  know  of  it,  she  before  all  others.  This  was  my 
first  feeling :  why  do  we  stray  into  side-paths  and  subter- 
fuges? My  first  thought  shall  be  my  last,  and  I  hope  to 
reach  my  aim." 

On  Saturday  morning  Lucidor,  dressed  at  an  early  hour, 
was  walking  to  and  fro  in  his  chamber,  thinking  and  con- 
ning over  his  projected  address  to  Lucinda,  when  he  heard  a 
sort  of  jestful  contention  before  his  door;  and  the  door 
itself  directly  afterwards  went  up.  The  mad  younker  was 
shoving  in  a  boy  before  him  with  coffee  and  baked  ware 
for  the  guest:  he  himself  carried  cold  meats  and  wine. 
"Go  thou  foremost,"  cried  the  younker,  "for  the  guest 
must  be  first  served :  I  am  used  to  serve  myself.  My 
friend,  to-day  I  am  entering  somewhat  early  and  tumul- 
tuously :  but  let  us  take  our  breakfast  in  peace ;  then  we 
shall  see  what  is  to  be  done,  for  of  our  company  there  is 
nothing  to  be  hoped.  The  little  one  is  not  yet  back  from 
her  friend  :  they  two  have  to  pour  out  their  hearts  together 
every  fortnight,  otherwise  the  poor,  dear  hearts  would  burst. 
On  Saturdays  Lucinda  is  good  for  nothing :  she  balances 
her  household  accounts  for  my  father ;  she  would  have  had 
me  taking  share  in  the  concern,  but  Heaven  forbid !  When 
I  know  the  price  of  any  thing,  no  morsel  of  it  can  I  relish. 
Guests  are  expected  to-morrow ;  the  old  man  has  not  yet  got 
refitted :  Antoni  is  gone  to  hunt ;  we  will  do  the  same. 

Guns,  pouches,  and  dogs  were  ready  as  our  pair  stepped 
down  into  the  court ;  and  now  they  set  forth  over  field  and 
hill,  shooting  at  best  a  leveret  or  so,  and  perhaps  here 
and  there  a  poor,  indifferent,  undeserving  bird.  Mean- 
while they  kept  talking  of  domestic  affairs,  of  the  house- 
hold, and  company  at  present  assembled  in  it.  Antoni  was 
mentioned,  and  Lucidor  failed  not  to  inquire  more  narrowly 
about  him.  The  gay  youuker,  with  some  self -complaisance, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  267 

asserted,  that  strange  as  the  man  was,  and  much  mystery 
as  he  made  about  himself,  he,  the  gay  younker,  had  already 
seen  through  him  and  through  him.  "Without  doubt," 
continued  he,  "Antoni  is  the  son  of  a  rich  mercantile 
family,  whose  large  partnership  concern  fell  to  ruin  at  the 
very  time  when  he,  in  the  full  vigor  of  youth,  was  preparing 
to  take  a  cheerful  and  active  hand  in  their  great  under- 
takings, and,  withal,  to  share  in  their  abundant  profits. 
Dashed  down  from  the  summit  of  his  hopes,  he  gathered 
himself  together,  and  undertook  to  perform  for  strangers 
what  he  was  no  longer  in  a  case  to  perform  for  his  relatives. 
And  so  he  travelled  through  the  world,  became  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  it  and  its  mutual  trafflckings ;  in  the  mean 
while  not  forgetting  his  own  advantage.  Unwearied  dili- 
gence and  tried  fidelity  obtained  and  secured  for  him  un- 
bounded confidence  from  many.  Thus  in  all  places  he 
acquired  connections  and  friends :  nay,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  his  fortune  is  as  widely  scattered  abroad  as  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  and,  accordingly,  his  presence  is  from  time  to 
time  required  in  all  quarters  of  the  world." 

These  things  the  merry  younker  told  in  a  more  circum- 
stantial and  simple  style,  introducing  many  farcical  obser- 
vations, as  if  he  meant  to  spin  out  his  story  to  full  length. 

"How  long,  for  instance,"  cried  he,  "has  this  Antoni 
been  connected  with  my  father?  They  think  I  see  nothing 
because  I  trouble  myself  about  nothing ;  but  for  this  very 
reason  I  see  it  better,  as  I  take  no  interest  in  it.  To  my 
father  he  has  intrusted  large  sums,  who,  again,  has  deposited 
them  securely  and  to  advantage.  It  was  but  last  night  that 
he  gave  our  old  dietetic  friend  a  casket  of  jewels ;  a  finer, 
simpler,  costlier  piece  of  ware  I  never  cast  my  eyes  on : 
though  I  saw  this  only  with  a  single  glance,  for  they  make 
a  secret  of  it.  Most  probably  it  is  to  be  consigned  to  the 
bride  for  her  pleasure,  satisfaction,  and  future  security. 
Antoni  has  set  his  heart  on  Lucinda !  Yet,  when  I  see  them 
together,  I  cannot  think  it  a  well-assorted  match.  The  hop- 
skip  would  have  suited  him  better :  I  believe,  too,  she  would 
take  him  sooner  than  the  elder  would.  Many  a  time  I  see 
her  looking  over  to  the  old  curmudgeon,  so  gay  and  sympa- 
thetic, as  if  she  could  find  in  her  heart  to  spring  into  the 
coach  with  him,  and  fly  off  at  full  gallop."  Lucidor  col- 
lected himself ;  lie  knew  not  what  to  answer ;  all  that  he 
heard  obtained  his  internal  approbation.  The  younker  pro- 
ceeded, "All  along  the  girl  has  had  a  perverted  liking  for 


268  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

old  people  :  I  believe,  of  a  truth,  she  would  have  skipped 
away  and  wedded  your  father  as  briskly  as  she  would  his 
son." 

Lucidor  followed  his  companion  over  stock  and  stone,  as 
it  pleased  the  gay  youth  to  lead  him  :  both  forgot  the  chase, 
which,  at  any  rate,  could  not  be  productive.  They  called  at  a 
farmhouse,  where,  being  hospitably  received,  the  one  friend 
entertained  himself  with  eating,  drinking,  and  tattling  ;  the 
other  again  plunged  into  meditations  and  projects  for  turn- 
ing this  new  discovery  to  his  own  profit. 

From  all  these  narrations  and  disclosures  Lucidor  had 
acquired  so  much  confidence  in  Antoni,  that,  immediately  on 
their  return,  he  asked  for  him,  and  hastened  into  the  garden 
where  he  was  said  to  be.  In  vain  !  No  soul  was  to  be  seen 
anywhere.  '  At  last  he  entered  the  door  of  the  great  hall : 
and  strange  enough  the  setting  sun,  reflected  from  the  mirror, 
so  dazzled  him  that  he  could  not  recognize  the  two  persons 
who  were  sitting  on  the  sofa ;  though  he  saw  distinctly  that 
it  was  a  lady  and  a  man,  which  latter  was  that  instant 
warmly  kissing  the  hand  of  his  companion.  How  great, 
accordingly,  was  Lucidor's  astonishment  when,  on  recov- 
ering his  clearness  of  vision,  he  beheld  Antoni  sitting  by 
Lucinda.  He  was  like  to  sink  through  the  ground ;  he 
stood,  however,  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot,  till  Lucinda,  in 
the  kindest,  most  unembarrassed  manner,  shifted  a  little  to 
a  side,  and  invited  him  to  take  a  seat  on  her  right  hand. 
Unconsciously  he  obeyed  her;  and  while  she  addressed  him, 
inquiring  after  his  present  day's  history,  asking  pardon  for 
her  absence  on  domestic  engagements,  he  could  scarcely 
hear  her  voice.  Autoni  rose,  and  took  his  leave  :  Lucinda, 
resting  herself  from  her  toil  as  the  others  were  doing,  invited 
Lucidor  to  a  short  stroll.  Walking  by  her  side  he  was  silent 
and  embarrassed :  she,  too,  seemed  ill  at  ease  ;  and,  had  he 
been  in  the  slightest  degree  self-collected,  her  deep-drawn 
breathing  must  have  disclosed  to  him  that  she  had  heartfelt 
sighs  to  suppress.  She  at  last  took  her  leave  as  they 
approached  the  house  :  he,  on  the  other  hand,  turned  round 
at  first  slowly,  then  at  a  violent  pace,  to  the  open  country. 
The  park  was  too  narrow  for  him :  he  hastened  through  the 
fields,  listening  only  to  the  voice  of  his  heart,  and  without 
eyes  for  the  beauties  of  this  loveliest  evening.  When  he 
found  himself  alone,  and  his  feelings  were  relieving  their 
violence  in  a  shower  of  tears,  he  exclaimed, — 

44  Already  in  my  life,  but  never  with  such  fierceness,  have 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  269 

I  felt  the  agony  which  now  makes  me  altogether  wretched,  — 
to  see  the  long-wished-for  happiness  at  length  reach  me, 
hand  in  hand  and  arm  in  arm  unite  with  me,  and  at  the 
same  moment  announce  its  eternal  departure  !  I  was  sit- 
ting by  her,  I  was  walking  by  her,  her  fluttering  garment 
touched  me ;  and  I  have  lost  her !  Reckon  it  not  over, 
torture  not  thy  heart  with  it,  be  silent  and  determine  !  " 

He  laid  a  prohibition  on  his  lips :  he  held  his  peace,  and 
planned  and  meditated ;  stepping  over  field  and  meadoAV 
and  bush,  not  always  by  the  smoothest  paths.  Late  at 
night,  on  returning  to  his  chamber,  he  gave  voice  to  his 
thoughts  for  a  moment,  and  cried,  t;  To- morrow  morning  I 
am  gone:  another  such  day  I  will  not  front." 

And  so,  without  undressing,  he  threw  himself  on  the  bed. 
Happy,  healthy  season  of  youth  !  He  was  already  asleep  : 
the  fatiguing  motion  of  the  day  had  earned  for  him  the 
sweetest  rest.  Out  of  bright  morning  dreams,  however,  the 
earliest  sun  awoke  him  :  this  was  the  longest  day  in  the  year, 
and  for  him  it  threatened  to  be  too  long.  If  the  grace  of  the 
peaceful  evening  star  had  passed  over  him  unnoticed,  he  felt 
the  awakening  beauty  of  the  morning  only  to  despair.  The 
world  was  lying  here  as  glorious  as  ever ;  to  his  eyes  it  was 
still  so,  but  his  soul  contradicted  it :  all  this  belonged  to  him 
no  longer  ;  he  had  lost  Lucinda. 

His  travelling-bag  was  soon  packed ;  this  he  was  to  leave 
behind  him ;  he  left  no  letter  with  it :  a  verbal  message  in 
excuse  of  absence  from  dinner,  perhaps  also  from  supper, 
might  be  left  with  the  groom,  whom,  at  any  rate,  he  must 
awaken.  The  groom,  however,  was  awake  already  :  Lucidor 
found  him  in  the  yard,  walking  with  large  strides  before  the 
stable-door.  "  You  do  not  mean  to  ride?  "  cried  the  usually 
good-natured  man,  with  a  tone  of  some  spleen.  u  To  you  I 
may  say  it,  but  young  master  is  growing  worse  and  worse. 
There  was  he  driving  about  far  and  near  yesterday :  you 
might  have  though o  he  would  thank  God  for  a  Sunday  to  rest 
in.  And  see  if  he  does  not  come  this  morning  before  day- 
break, rummages  about  in  the  stable,  and,  while  I  am  getting 
up,  saddles  and  bridles  your  horse,  flings  himself  on  it,  and 
cries,  l  Do  but  consider  the  good  work  I  am  doing !  This 
beast  keeps  jogging  on  at  a  staid,  juridical  trot:  I  must  see 
and  rouse  him  into  a  smart  life-gallop.'  He  said  something 
just  so,  and  other  strange  speeches  besides." 

Lucidor  was  doubly  and  trebly  vexed  :  he  liked  the  horse, 
as  corresponding  to  his  own  character,  his  own  mode  of  life ; 


270  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

it  grieved  him  to  figure  his  good,  sensible  beast  in  the  hands 
of  a  madcap.  His  plan,  too,  was  overturned, — his  purpose 
of  flying  to  a  college  friend  with  whom  he  had  lived  in  cheer- 
ful, cordial  union,  and  in  this  crisis  seeking  refuge  beside 
him.  His  old  confidence  had  been  awakened,  the  interven- 
ing miles  were  not  counted :  he  had  fancied  himself  already 
at  the  side  of  his  true-hearted  and  judicious  friend,  finding 
counsel  and  assuagement  from  his  words  and  looks.  This 
prospect  was  now  cut  off,  yet  not  entirely,  if  he  could  ven- 
ture with  the  fresh,  pedestrian  limbs  which  still  stood  at  his 
command  to  set  forth  towards  the  goal. 

First  of  all,  accordingly,  he  struck  through  the  park ; 
making  for  the  open  country,  and  the  road  which  was  to  lead 
him  to  his  friend.  Of  his  direction  he  was  not  quite  certain, 
when,  looking  to  the  left,  his  eye  fell  upon  the  hermitage, 
which  had  hitherto  been  kept  secret  from  him, — a  strange 
edifice,  rising  with  grotesque  joinery  through  bush  and  tree  ; 
and  here,  to  his  extreme  astonishment,  he  observed  the  good 
old  man,  who  for  some  days  had  been  considered  sick,  stand- 
ing in  the  gallery  under  the  Chinese  roof,  and  looking  blithely 
through  the  soft  morning.  The  friendliest  salutation,  the 
most  pressing  entreaties  to  come  up,  Lucidor  resisted  with 
excuses  and  gestures  of  haste.  Nothing  but  sympathy  with 
the  good  old  man,  who,  hastening  down  with  infirm  step, 
seemed  every  moment  in  danger  of  falling  to  the  bottom, 
could  induce  him  to  turn  thither,  and  then  suffer  himself  to 
be  conducted  up.  With  surprise  he  entered  the  pretty  little 
hall ;  it  had  only  three  windows,  turned  towards  the  park, — 
a  most  graceful  prospect :  the  other  sides  were  decorated,  or, 
rather,  covered,  with  hundreds  of  portraits,  copper-plate  or 
painted,  which  were  fixed  in  a  certain  order  to  the  wall,  and 
separated  by  colored  borders  and  interstices. 

" 1  favor  you,  my  friend,  more  than  I  do  every  one  :  this 
is  the  sanctuary  in  which  I  peacefully  spend  my  last  days. 
Here  I  recover  myself  from  all  the  mistakes  which  society 
tempts  me  to  commit :  here  my  dietetic  errors  are  corrected, 
and  my  old  being  is  again  restored  to  equilibrium." 

Lucidor  looked  over  the  place ;  and,  being  well  read  in 
history,  he  easily  observed  that  an  historical  taste  had  pre- 
sided in  its  arrangement. 

"  Above,  there,  in  the  frieze,"  said  the  old  virtuoso,  ';  you 
will  find  the  names  of  distinguished  men  in  the  primitive 
ages ;  then  those  of  later  antiquity ;  yet  still  only  their 
names,  for  how  they  looked  would  now  be  difficult  to  dis- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  271 

cover.  Bat  here,  in  the  main  field,  comes  my  own  life  into 
play :  here  are  the  men  whose  names  I  used  to  hear  men- 
tioned in  my  boyhood.  For  some  fifty  years  or  so  the  name 
of  a  distinguished  man  continues  in  the  remembrance  of  the 
people  :  then  it  vanishes,  or  becomes  fabulous.  Though  of 
German  parentage,  I  was  born  in  Holland ;  and,  for  me, 
William  of  Orange,  Stadtholder,  and  King  of  England,  is  the 
patriarch  of  all  common  great  men  and  heroes. 

"  Now,  close  by  William,  you  observe  Louis  Fourteenth 
as  the  person  who  "  —  How  gladly  would  Lucidor  have  cut 
short  the  good  old  man,  had  it  but  been  permitted  him,  as  it 
is  to  us  the  narrators :  for  the  whole  late  and  latest  history 
of  the  world  seemed  impending ;  as  from  the  portraits  of 
Frederick  the  Great  and  his  generals,  towards  which  he  was 
glancing,  was  but  too  clearly  to  be  gathered. 

And  though  the  kindly  young  man  could  not  but  respect 
his  old  friend's  lively  sympathy  in  these  things,  nor  deny  that 
some  individual  features  and  views  in  this  exhibitory  dis- 
course might  be  interesting  ;  yet  at  college  he  had  heard  the 
late  and  latest  history  of  Europe' already :  and,  what  a  man 
has  once  heard,  he  fancies  himself  to  know  forever.  Luci- 
dor's  thoughts  were  wandering  far  away  :  he  heard  not,  he 
scarcely  saw,  and  was  just  on  the  point,  in  spite  of  all 
politeness,  of  Hinging  himself  out,  and  tumbling  down  the 
long,  fatal  stair,  when  a  loud  clapping  of  hands  was  heard 
fiom  below. 

While  Lucidor  restrained  his  movement,  the  old  man 
looked  over  through  the  window ;  and  a  well-known  voice 
resounded  from  beneath,  "  Come  down,  for  Heaven's  sake, 
out  of  your  historic  picture-gallery,  old  gentleman  !  Con- 
clude your  fasts  and  humiliations,  and  help  me  to  appease 
our  young  friend,  when  he  learns  it.  Lucidor's  horse  I  have 
ridden  somewhat  hard :  it  has  lost  a  shoe,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  leave  the  beast  behind  me.  What  will  he  say?  He  is  too 
absurd,  when  one  behaves  absurdly." 

"Come  up,"  said  the  old  man,  and  turned  in  to  Lucidor. 
"Now  what  say  you?"  Lucidor  was  silent,  and  the  wild 
blade  entered.  The  discussion  of  the  business  lasted  long : 
at  length  it  was  determined  to  despatch  the  groom  forthwith, 
that  he  might  seek  the  horse,  and  take  charge  of  it. 

Leaving  the  old  man,  the  two  younkers  hastened  to  the 
house  ;  Lucidor,  not  quite  un willing! y,  submitting  to  this  ar- 
rangement. Come  of  it  what  might,  within  these  walls  the 
sole  wish  of  his  heart  was  included.  In  such  desperate 


272  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

cases,  we  are,  at  any  rate,  cut  off  from  the  assistance  of  our 
free  will ;  and  we  feel  ourselves  relieved  for  a  moment, 
when,  from  any  quarter,  direction  and  constraint  take  hold 
of  us.  Yet,  on  entering  his  chamber,  he  found  himself  in 
the  strangest  mood,  —  like  a  man  who,  having  just  left  an 
apartment  of  an  inn,  is  forced  to  return  to  it  by  the  break- 
ing of  an  axle. 

The  gay  younker  fell  upon  the  travelling-bag,  unpacking  it 
all  in  due  order ;  especially  selecting  every  article  of  holiday 
apparel,  which,  though  only  on  the  travelling  scale,  was  to 
be  found  there.  He  forced  Lucidor  to  put  on  fresh  shoes 
and  stockings :  he  dressed  for  him  his  clustering  brown 
locks,  and  decked  him  at  all  points  with  his  best  skill.  Then 
stepping  back,  and  surveying  our  friend  and  his  own  handi- 
work from  head  to  foot,  he  exclaimed,  "  Now,  then,  my 
good  fellow,  you  do  look  like  a  man  that  has  some  preten- 
sions to  pretty  damsels,  and  serious  enough,  moreover,  to 
spy  about  you  for  a  bride  !  Wait  one  moment !  You  shall 
see  how  I,  too,  can  produce  myself,  when  the  hour  strikes. 
This  knack  I  learned  from -your  military  officers,  the  girls 
are  always  glancing  at  them  :  so  I  likewise  have  enrolled  my- 
self among  a  certain  soldiery ;  and  now  they  look  at  me,  too, 
and  look  again  ;  and  no  soul  of  them  knows  what  to  make  of 
it.  And  so,  from  this  looking  and  re-looking,  from  this  sur- 
prise and  attention,  a  pretty  enough  result  now  and  then 
arises ;  which,  though  it  were  not  lasting,  is  worth  enjoying 
for  the  moment. 

"  But  ccme  along,  my  friend,  and  do  the  like  service  for 
me.  When  you  have  seen  me  case  myself  by  piecemeal  in 
my  equipment,  you  will  not  say  that  wit  and  invention  have 
been  denied  me."  He  now  led  his  friend  through  several 
long,  spacious  passages  of  the  old  castle.  "  I  have  quite 
nestled  myself  here,"  cried  he.  "Though  I  care  not  for 
hiding,  I  like  to  be  alone :  you  can  do  no  good  with  other 
people." 

They  were  passing  by  the  office-rooms  just  as  a  servant 
came  out  with  a  patriarchal  writing  apparatus,  black,  mas- 
sive, and  complete :  paper,  too,  was  not  forgotten. 

"•I  know  what  it  is  to  be  blotted  here  again,"  cried  the 
younker  :  "go  thy  ways,  and  leave  me  the  key.  Take  a  look 
of  the  place,  Lucidor :  it  will  amuse  you  till  I  am  dressed. 
To  a  friend  of  justice,  such  a  spot  is  not  odious,  as  to  a 
tamer  of  horses."  And,  with  this,  he  pushed  Lucidor  into 
the  hall  of  judgment. 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  273 

Luciclor  felt  himself  directly  in  a  well-known  and  friendly 
element :  he  thought  of  the  days  when  he,  fixed  down  to 
business,  had  sat  at  such  a  table,  and,  listening  and  writing, 
had  trained  himself  to  his  art.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  observe, 
that  in  this  case  an  old,  stately,  domestic  chapel  had,  under 
the  change  of  religious  ideas,  been  converted  to  the  service 
of  Themis.  In  the  repositories  he  found  some  titles  and  acts 
already  familiar  to  him :  in  these  very  matters  he  had  co- 
operated while  laboring  in  the  capital.  Opening  a  bundle  of 
papers,  there  came  into  his  hands  a  rescript  which  he  himself 
had  dictated ;  another  of  which  he  had  been  the  originator. 
Handwriting  and  paper,  signet  and  president's  signature, 
every  thing  recalled  to  him  that  season  of  juridical  effort,  of 
youthful  hope.  And  here,  when  he  looked  round,  and  saw 
the  Oberamtmann' s  chair,  appointed  and  intended  for  him- 
self ;  so  fair  a  place,  so  dignified  a  circle  of  activity,  which 
he  was  now  like  to  cast  away  and  utterly  lose,  —  all  this  op- 
pressed him  doubly  and  trebly,  as  the  form  of  Lucinda 
seemed  to  retire  from  him  at  the  same  time. 

He  turned  to  go  out  into  the  open  air,  but  found  himself  a 
prisoner.  His  gay  friend,  heedlessly  or  roguishly,  had  left 
the  door  locked.  Lucidor,  however,  did  not  long  continue 
in  this  durance ;  for  the  other  returned,  apologized  for  his 
oversight,  and  really  called  forth  good-humor  by  his  singular 
appearance.  A  certain  audacity  of  color  and  cut  in  his 
clothes  was  softened  by  natural  taste,  as  even  to  tattooed 
Indians  we  refuse  not  a  certain  approbation.  "To-day," 
cried  he,  "  the  tedium  of  by-gone  days  shall  be  made  good  to 
us.  Worthy  friends,  merry  friends,  are  come ;  pretty  girls, 
roguish  and  fond ;  and  my  father,  to  boot ;  and,  wonder  on 
wonder  !  your  father  too.  This  will  be  a  festival  truly  :  they 
are  all  assembled  for  breakfast  in  the  parlor." 

With  Lucidor,  at  this  piece  of  information,  it  was  as  if  he 
were  looking  into  deep  fog :  all  the  figures,  known  and  un- 
known, which  the  words  announced  to  him,  assumed  a  spec- 
tral aspect ;  yet  his  resolution,  and  the  consciousness  of  a 
pure  heart,  sustained  him :  and  in  a  few  seconds  he  felt  him- 
self prepared  for  every  thing.  He  followed  his  hastening 
t riend  with  a  steady  step,  firmly  determined  to  await  the 
issue,  be  what  it  might,  and  explain  his  own  purposes,  come 
what  come  might. 

And  yet,  at  the  very  threshold  of  the  hall,  he  was  struck 
with  some  alarm.  In  a  large  half-circle,  ranged  round  by 
the  windows,  he  immediately  descried  his  father  with  the 


274  MEISTEIl'S  TRAVELS. 

Oberamtmann,  both  splendidly  attired.  The  two  sisters,  An- 
toui,  and  others  known  and  unknown,  he  hurried  over  with 
a  glance,  which  was  threatening  to  grow  dim.  Half  waver- 
ing, he  approached  his  father,  who  bade  him  welcome  with 
the  utmost  kindness,  yet  in  a  certain  style  of  formality  which 
scarcely  invited  any  trustful  application.  Standing  before 
so  many  persons,  he  looked  round  to  find  a  place  among  them 
for  a  moment ;  he  might  have  arranged  himself  beside  Lu- 
ciuda :  but  Julia,  contrary  to  the  rigor  of  etiquette,  made 
room  for  him  ;  so  that  he  was  forced  to  step  to  her  side. 
Antoni  continued  by  Lucinda. 

At  this  important  moment  Lucidor  again  felt  as  if  he  were 
a  delegate ;  and,  steeled  by  his  whole  juridical  science,  he 
called  up  in  his  own  favor  the  fine  maxim,  That  we  should 
transact  affairs  delegated  to  us  by  a  stranger  as  if  they  were 
our  own;  why  not  our  own,  therefore,  in  the  same  spirit? 
Well  practised  in  official  orations,  he  speedily  ran  over  what 
he  had  to  say.  But  the  company,  ranged  in  a  formal  semi- 
circle, seemed  to  outflank  him.  The  purport  of  his  speech  he 
knew  well :  the  beginning  of  it  he  could  not  find.  At  this 
crisis  he  observed  on  a  table,  in  the  corner,  the  large  ink- 
glass,  and  several  clerks  sitting  round  it :  the  Oberamtmann 
made  a  movement  as  if  to  solicit  attention  for  a  speech ; 
Lucidor  wished  to  anticipate  him  :  and,  at  that  very  moment, 
Julia  pressed  his  hand.  This  threw  him  out  of  all  self-pos- 
session, convinced  him  that  all  was  decided,  all  lost  for 
him. 

With  the  whole  of  these  negotiations,  these  family  alli- 
ances, with  social  conventions,  and  rules  of  good  manners,  he 
had  now  nothing  more  to  do :  he  snatched  his  hand  from 
Julia's,  and  vanished  so  rapidly  from  the  room,  that  the 
company  lost  him  unawares ;  and  he  out  of  doors  could  not 
find  himself  again. 

Shrinking  from  the  light  of  day,  which  shone  down  upon 
him  in  its  highest  splendor ;  avoiding  the  eyes  of  men  ;  dread- 
ing search  and  pursuit,  —  he  hurried  forwards,  and  reached 
the  large  garden-hall.  Here  his  knees  were  like  to  fail  him  : 
he  rushed  in,  and  threw  himself,  utterly  comfortless,  upon  the 
sofa  beneath  the  mirror.  Amid  the  polished  arrangements 
of  society,  to  be  caught  in  such  unspeakable  perplexity  !  It 
dashed  to  and  fro  like  waves  about  him  and  within  him. 
His  past  existence  was  struggling  with  his  present :  it  was  a 
frightful  moment. 

And  so  he  lay  for  a  time,  with  his  face  hid  in  the  cushion, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  275 

on  which  last  night  Lucincla's  arm  had  rested.  Altogether 
sunk  in  his  sorrow,  he  had  heard  no  footsteps  approach : 
feeling  some  one  touch  him,  he  started  up,  and  perceived 
Lucinda  standing  by  his  side. 

Fancying  they  had  sent  her  to  bring  him  back,  had  com- 
missioned her  to  lead  him  with  fit,  sisterly  words  into  the  as- 
semblage to  front  his  hated  doom,  he  exclaimed,  "  You  they 
should  not  have  sent,  Lucinda ;  for  it  was  you  that  drove  me 
away.  I  will  not  return.  Give  me,  if  you  are  capable  of 
any  pit}T,  procure  me,  convenience  and  means  of  flight.  For, 
that  you  yourself  may  testily  how  impossible  it  was  to  bring 
me  back,  listen  to  the  explanation  of  my  conduct,  which  to 
you  and  all  of  them  must  seem  insane.  Hear  now  the  oath 
which  I  have  sworn  in  my  soul,  and  which  I  incessantly  re- 
peat in  words  :  with  you  only  did  I  wish  to  live,  with  you  to 
enjoy,  to  employ  my  days,  from  youth  to  old  age,  in  true, 
honorable  union.  And  let  this  be  as  firm  and  sure  as  aught 
ever  sworn  before  the  altar,  —  this,  which  I  now  swear,  now 
when  I  leave  you,  the  most  pitiable  of  all  men." 

He  made  a  movement  to  glide  past  her,  as  she  stood  close 
before  him  ;  but  she  caught  him  softlj*  in  her  arms.  "  Whaf 
is  this?"  exclaimed  he. 

"  Lucidor!  "  cried  she,  "not  pitiable  as  you  think:  you 
are  mine,  I  am  yours  ;  I  hold  you  in  my  arms  ;  delay  not  to 
throw  your  arms  about  me.  Your  father  has  agreed  to  all : 
Antoni  marries  my  sister." 

In  astonishment  he  recoiled  from  her.  "  Can  it  be?"  Lu- 
cinda smiled  and  nodded :  he  drew  back  from  her  arms. 
"  Let  me  view  once  more,  at  a  distance,  what  is  to  be  mine 
so  nearly,  so  inseparably  !  "  He  grasped  her  hands  :  "  Lu- 
cinda, are  you  mine?" 

She  answered,  "Well,  then,  yes,"  the  sweetest  tears  in 
the  truest  eyes :  he  clasped  her  to  his  breast,  and  threw  his 
head  behind  hers ;  he  hung  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner  on 
the  cliffs  of  the  coast ;  the  ground  still  shook  under  him. 
And  now  his  enraptured  eye,  again  opening,  lighted  on  the 
mirror.  He  saw  her  there  in  his  arms,  himself  clasped  in 
hers :  he  looked  down  and  again  to  the  image.  Such  emo- 
tions accompany  man  throughout  his  life.  In  the  mirror, 
also,  he  beheld  the  landscape,  which  last  night  had  appeared 
to  him  so  baleful  and  ominous,  now  lying  fairer  and  brighter 
than  ever ;  and  himself  in  such  a  posture,  on  such  a  back- 
ground !  Abundant  recompense  for  all  sorrows  ! 

"  We  are  not  alone,"  said  Lucinda;  and  scarcely  had  he 


276  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

recovered  from  his  rapture,  when,  all  decked  and  garlanded, 
a  company  of  girls  and  boys  came  forward,  carrying  wreaths 
of  flowers,  and  crowding  the  entrance  of  the  hall.  "  This  is 
not  the  way,"  cried  Lucinda  :  "  how  prettily  it  was  arranged, 
and  now  it  is  all  running  into  tumult!"  A  gay  march 
sounded  from  a  distance,  and  the  company  were  seen  coin- 
ing on  by  the  large  road  in  stately  procession.  Lucidor  hesi- 
tated to  advance  towards  them  :  only  on  her  arm  did  he  seem 
certain  of  his  steps.  She  staid  beside  him  ;  expecting  from 
moment  to  moment  the  solemn  scene  of  meeting,  of  thanks 
for  pardon  already  given. 

But  by  the  capricious  gods  it  was  otherwise  determined. 
The  gay,  clanging  sound  of  a  postilion's  horn  from  the  oppo- 
site side  seemed  to  throw  the  whole  ceremony  into  rout. 
"Who  can  becoming?"  cried  Lucinda.  The  thought  of  a 

o  o 

strange  presence  was  frightful  to  Lucidor,  and  the  carriage 
seemed  entirely  unknown  to  him.  A  double-seated,  new, 
spick-and-span  new,  travelling-chaise !  It  rolled  up  to  the 
hall.  A  well-dressed,  handsome  boy  sprang  down,  opened 
the  door ;  but  no  one  dismounted ;  the  chaise  was  empty. 
The  boy  stepped  into  it :  with  a  dexterous  touch  or  two 
he  threw  back  the  tilts ;  and  there,  in  a  twinkling,  stood 
the  daintiest  vehicle  in  readiness  for  the  gayest  drive,  before 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  party,  who  were  now  advancing  to  the 
spot.  Antoni,  outhastening  the  rest,  led  Julia  to  the  car- 
riage. "Try  if  this  machine,"  said  he,  "will  please  you; 
if  you  can  sit  in  it,  and,  over  the  smoothest  roads,  roll 
through  the  world  beside  me :  I  will  lead  you  by  no  other 
but  the  smoothest ;  and,  when  a  strait  comes,  we  shall  know 
how  to  help  ourselves.  Over  the  mountains  sumpters  shall 
carry  us,  and  our  coach  also." 

"  You  are  a  dear  creature  !  "  cried  Julia.  The  boy  came 
forward,  and,  with  the  quickness  of  a  conjurer,  exhibited  all 
the  conveniences,  little  advantages,  comforts,  and  celerities 
of  the  whole  light  edifice. 

"  On  earth  I  have  no  thanks,"  cried  Julia  ;  "  but  from  this 
little  moving  heaven,  from  this  cloud,  into  which  you  raise 
me,  I  will  heartily  thank  you."  She  had  already  bounded 
in,  throwing  him  kind  looks,  and  a  kiss  of  the  hand.  "  For 
the  present  you  come  not  hither ;  but  there  is  another  whom 
I  mean  to  take  along  with  me  in  this  proof-excursion,  —  he 
himself  has  still  a  proof  to  undergo."  She  called  to  Luci- 
dor, who,  just  then  occupied  in  mute  conversation  with  his 
father  and  father-in-law,  willingly  took  refuge  in  the  light 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  277 

vehicle,  feeling  an  irresistible  necessity  to  dissipate  his 
thoughts  in  some  way  or  other,  though  it  were  but  for  a 
moment.  He  placed  himself  beside  her :  she  directed  the 
postilion  where  he  was  to  drive.  Instantly  they  darted  off, 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  vanished  from  the  eyes 
of  the  amazed  spectators. 

Julia  fixed  herself  in  the  comer  as  firmly  and  commodi- 
ously  as  she  could  wish.  "  Now  do  you  shift  into  that  one, 
too,  good  brother ;  so  that  we  may  look  each  other  rightly  in 
the  face." 

Lucidor.  You  feel  my  confusion,  my  embarrassment.  I 
am  still  as  if  in  a  dream.  Help  me  out  of  it. 

Julia.  Look  at  these  gay  peasants.  How  kindly  they  sa- 
lute us  !  You  have  never  seen  the  Upper  Hamlet  yet,  since 
you  came  hither.  All  good,  substantial  people  there,  and 
all  thoroughly  devoted  to  me.  No  one  of  them  so  rich  that 
you  cannot,  by  a  time,  do  a  little  kind  service  to  him.  This 
road,  which  we  whirl  along  so  smoothly,  is  my  father's  doing, 
—  another  of  his  benefits  to  the  community. 

Lucidor.  I  believe  it,  and  willingly  admit  it ;  but  what 
have  these  external  things  to  do  with  the  perplexity  of  my 
internal  feelings? 

Julia.  Patience  a  little !  I  will  show  you  the  riches  of 
this  world,  and  the  glory  thereof.  Here  now  we  are  at  the 
top.  Do  but  look  how  clear  the  level  country  lies  all  round 
us,  leaning  against  the  mountains.  All  these  villages  are 
much,  much  indebted  to  my  father;  to  mother  and  daughters 
too.  The  grounds  of  yon  little  hamlet  are  the  border. 

Lucidor.  Surely  you  are  in  a  very  strange  mood :  you  do 
not  seem  to  be  saying  what  you  meant  to  say. 

Julia.  But  now  look  down  to  the  left.  How  beautifully 
all  this  unfolds  itself !  The  church,  with  its  high  lindens ; 
the  Amthaus,  with  its  poplars,  behind  the  village  knoll. 
Here,  too,  are  the  garden  and  the  park. 

The  postilion  drove  faster. 

Julia.  The  Hall  up  yonder  you  know.  It  looks  almost 
as  well  here  as  this  scene  does  from  it.  Here,  at  the  tree, 
we  shall  stop  a  moment.  Now,  in  this  very  spot  our  image 
is  reflected  in  the  large  mirror :  there  they  see  us  full  well, 
but  we  cannot  see  ourselves.  —  Go  along,  postilion  !  There, 
some  little  while  ago,  two  people,  I  believe,  were  reflected  at 
a  shorter  distance,  and,  if  I  am  not  exceedingly  mistaken, 
to  their  great  mutual  satisfaction. 

Lucidor,  in  ill-humor,  answered  nothing.     They  went  on 


278  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

for  some  time  in  silence,  driving  very  hard.  "  Here,"  said 
Jnlia,  "the  bad  road  begins,  —  a  service  left  for  you  to  do 
some  day.  Before  we  go  lower,  look  down  once  moi'e.  My 
mother's  box-tree  rises  with  its  royal  summit  over  all  the 
rest.  Thou  wilt  drive,"  continued  she,  to  the  postilion. 
"  down  this  rough  road  :  we  shall  take  the  footpath  through 
the  dale,  and  so  be  sooner  at  the  other  side  than  thou."  In 
dismounting,  she  cried,  "  "Well,  now,  you  will  confess  the 
Wandering  Jew,  this  restless  Antoni  the  Traveller,  can 
arrange  his  pilgrimages  prettily  enough  for  himself  and  his 
companions.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  and  commodious  car- 
riage. " 

And  with  this  she  tripped  away  down  hill.  Lucidor  fol- 
lowed her  in  deep  thought :  she  was  sitting  on  a  pleasant 
seat ;  it  was  Luciuda's  little  spot.  She  invited  him  to  sit  by 
her. 

Julia.  So  now  we  are  sitting  here,  and  one  is  nothing  to 
the  other.  Thus  it  was  destined  to  be.  The  little  Quicksilver 
would  not  suit  you.  Love  it  you  could  not :  it  was  hateful 
to  you. 

Lucidor's  astonishment  increased. 

Julia.  But  Luciuda,  indeed !  She  is  the  paragon  of  all 
perfections,  and  the  pretty  sister  was  once  for  all  cast  out. 
I  see  it :  the  question  hovers  on  your  lips,  Who  has  told  us 
all  so  accurately? 

Lucidor.     There  is  treachery  in  it ! 

Julia.  Yes,  truly  !  There  has  been  a  traitor  at  work  in 
the  matter. 

Lucidor.     Name  him. 

Julia.  He  is  soon  unmasked :  You  !  You  have  the  praise- 
worthy or  blameworthy  custom  of  talking  to  yourself ;  and 
now,  in  the  name  of  all,  I  must  confess  that  in  turn  we  have 
overheard  you. 

Lucidor  (starting  up).  A  sorry  piece  of  hospitality,  to 
la}-  snares  for  a  stranger  in  this  way  ! 

Julia.  By  no  means.  We  thought  not  of  watching  3*011 
more  than  any  other.  But  3*011  know  your  bed  stands  in  the 
recess  of  the  wall :  on  the  opposite  side  is  another  alcove, 
commonly  employed  for  laying  up  household  articles.  Hither, 
some  days  before,  we  had  shifted  our  old  man's  bed,  being 
anxious  about  him  in  his  remote  hermitage ;  and  here,  the 
first  night,  you  started  some  such  passionate  soliloquy,  which 
he  next  morning  took  his  opportunity  of  rehearsing. 

Lucidor  had  not  the  heart  to  interrupt  her.     He  withdrew. 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  279 

Julia  (rising  and  following  him).  What  a  service  this 
discovery  did  us  all !  For  I  will  confess,  if  you  were  n^t 
positively  disagreeable,  the  situation  which  awaited  me  was. 
not  by  any  means  to  my  mind.  To  be  Frau  Oberamtmannin, 
—  what  a  dreadful  state !  To  have  a  brave,  gallant  hus- 
band, who  is  to  pass  judgment  on  the  people,  and,  for  sheer 
judgment,  cannot  get  to  justice ;  who  can  please  neither 
high  nor  low,  and,  what  is  worst,  not  even  himself.  I  know 
what  my  poor  mother  suffered  from  the  incorruptibility, 
the  inflexibility,  of  my  father1.  At  last,  indeed,  but  not  till 
her  death,  a  certain  meekness  took  possession  of  him :  he 
seemed  to  suit  himself  to  the  world,  to  make  a  truce  with 
those  evils  which  till  then  he  had  vainly  striven  to  con- 
quer. 

Lucidor  (stopping  short,  extremely  discontented  with  the 
incident,  vexed  at  this  light  mode  of  treating  it) .  For  the 
sport  of  an  evening  this  might  pass,  but  to  practise  such  a 
disgracing  mystification  day  and  night  against  an  unsuspi- 
cious stranger  is  not  pardonable. 

Julia..  We  are  all  equally  deep  in  the  crime,  we  all  heark- 
ened you ;  yet  I  alone  pay  the  penalty  of  eavesdropping. 

Lucidor.  All !  So  much  the  more  unpardonable.  And 
how  could  you  look  at  me,  throughout  the  day,  without 
blushing,  whom  at  night  you  were  so  contemptuously  over- 
reaching? But  I  see  clearly  with  a  glance  that  your  arrange- 
ments by  day  were  planned  to  make  mockery  of  me.  A 
fine  family  !  And  where  was  your  father's  love  of  justice  all 
this  while?  —  And  Lucinda  — 

Julia.  And  Lucinda !  What  a  tone  was  that !  You 
meant  to  say,  did  not  you,  how  deeply  it  grieved  your  heart 
to  think  ill  of  Lucinda,  to  rank  her  in  a  class  with  the  rest 
of  us? 

Lucidor.     I  cannot  understand  Lucinda. 

Julia.  In  other  words,  this  pure,  noble  soul ;  this  peace- 
full}-  composed  nature,  benevolence,  goodness  itself ;  this 
woman  as  she  should  be,  —  unites  with  alight-minded  com- 
pany, with  a  freakish  sister,  a. spoiled  brother,  and  certain 
mysterious  persons.  That  is  incomprehensible  ! 

Lucidor.     Yes,  indeed,  it  is  incomprehensible  ! 

Julia.  Comprehend  it,  then  1  Lucinda,  like  the  rest  of 
us,  had  her  hands  bound..  Could  }-ou  have  seen  her  perplex- 
ity, how  fain  she  would  have  told  you  all,  how  often  she  was 
on  the  very  eve  of  doing  it,  you  would  now  love  her  doubly 
and  trebly,  if,  indeed,  true  love  were  not  always  tenfold  and 


280  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

hundred-fold  of  itself.  I  can  assure  you,  moreover,  that  all 
of  us  at  length  thought  the  joke  too  long. 

Luciclor.     Why  did  you  not  end  it,  then  ? 

Julia.  That,  too,  1  must  explain.  No  sooner  had  my 
father  got  intelligence  of  your  first  monologue,  and  seen,  as 
was  easy  to  do,  that  none  of  his  children  would  object  to 
such  an  exchange,  than  he  determined  on  visiting  your  father. 
The  importance  of  the  business  gave  him  much  anxiety.  A 
father  alone  can  feel  the  respect  which  is  due  to  a  father. 
14  He  must  be  informed  of  it  in  the  first  place,"  said  mine, 
"that  he  may  not  in  the  end,  when  we  are  all  agreed,  be 
reduced  to  give  a  forced  and  displeased  consent.  I  know 
him  well:  I  know  how  any  thought,  any  wish,  any  purpose, 
cleaves  to  him ;  and  I  have  my  own  fears  about  the  issue. 
Julia,  his  maps  and  pictures,  he  has  long  viewed  as  one  thing ; 
he  has  it  in  his  eye  to  transport  all  this  hither,  when  the 
young  pair  are  once  settled  here,  and  his  old  pupil  cannot 
change  her  abode  so  readily :  on  us  he  is  to  bestow  his  holi- 
days ;  and  who  knows  what  other  kind,  friendly  things  he 
has  projected  ?  He  must  forthwith  be  informed  what  a  trick 
Nature  has  played  us,  while  yet  nothing  is  declared,  nothing 
is  determined."  And,  with  this,  he  exacted  from  us  all  the 
most  solemn  promise  that  we  should  observe  you,  and,  come 
what  might,  retain  you  here  till  his  return.  How  this  return 
has  been  protracted  ;  what  art,  toil,  and  perseverance  it  has 
cost  to  gain  your  father's  consent,  —  he  himself  will  inform 
you.  In  short,  the  business  is  adjusted  :  Lucinda  is  yours. 

And  thus  had  the  two  promenaders,  sharply  removing  from 
their  first  resting-place,  then  pausing  by  the  way,  then  speak- 
ing, and  walking  slowly  through  the  green  fields,  at  last 
reached  the  height,  where  another  well-levelled  road  received 
them.  The  carriage  came  whirling  up :  Julia  in  the  mean 
while  turned  her  friend's  attention  to  a  strange  sight.  The 
whole  machinery,  of  which  her  gay  brother  had  bragged  so 
much,  was  now  alive  and  in  motion  :  the  wheels  were  already 
heaving  up  and  down  a  multitude  of  people  ;  the  seesaws 
were  flying ;  maypoles  had  their  climbers  ;  and  many  a  bold, 
artful  swing  and  spring  over  the  heads  of  an  innumerable 
multitude  you  might  see  ventured.  The  younker  had  set  all 
a-going,  that  so  the  guests,  after  dinner,  might  have  a  gay 
spectacle  awaiting  them.  "  Thou  wilt  drive  through  the 
Nether  Hamlet,"  cried  Julia :  "  the  people  wish  me  well,  and 
they  shall  see  how  well  I  am  off." 

The  hamlet  was  empty :  the  young  people  had  all  run  to 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  281 

the  swings  and  seesaws ;  old  men  and  women,  roused  by 
the  driver's  horn,  appeared  at  doors  and  windows  ;  every  one 
gave  salutations  and  blessings,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  what  a 
lovely  pair  ! ' ' 

Julia.  There,  do  you  hear?  We  should  have  suited  well 
enough  together  after  all :  you  ma}-  rue  it  yet. 

Lucidor.     But  now,  dear  sister  — 

Julia.     Ha  !     Now  dear,  when  you  are  rid  of  me  ! 

Lucidor.  One  single  word.  On  you  rests  a  heavy  accusa- 
tion :  what  did  you  mean  by  that  squeeze  of  the  hand,  when 
you  knew  and  felt  my  dreadful  situation  ?  A  thing  so  radi- 
cally wicked  I  have  never  met  with  in  my  life  before. 

Julia.  Thank  Heaven,  we  are  now  quits  ;  now  all  is  par- 
doned :  I  had  no  mind  for  you,  that  is  certain  ;  but  that  you 
had  utterly  aud  absolutely  no  mind  for  me,  this  was  a  thing 
which  no  young  women  could  forgive :  and  the  squeeze  of 
the  hand,  observe  you,  was  for  the  rogue.  I  do  confess  it 
was  almost  too  roguish  :  and  I  forgive  myself,  because  I  for- 
give you  ;  and  so  let  all  be  forgotten  and  forgiven !  Here 
is  my  hand. 

He  took  it :  she  cried,  "  Here  we  are  again  !  In  our  park 
again ;  and  so,  in  a  trice,  we  whirl  through  the  wide  world, 
aud  back  too :  we  shall  meet  again." 

They  had  reached  the  garden-hall ;  it  seemed  empty  :  the 
company,  tired  of  waiting,  had  gone  out  to  walk.  Antoni, 
however,  and  Lucinda,  came  forth.  Julia,  stepping  from  the 
carriage,  flew  to  her  friend  :  she  thanked  him  in  a  cordial  em- 
brace, and  restrained  not  the  most  joyful  tears.  The  brave 
man's  cheeks  reddened,  his  features  looked  forth  unfolded  ; 
his  eye  glanced  moist ;  and  a  fair,  imposing  youth  shone 
through  the  veil. 

And  so  both  pairs  moved  off  to  join  the  company,  with 
feelings  which  the  finest  dream  could  not  have  given  them. 


CHAPTER  LAST. 

"  THUS,  my  friends,"  said  Lenardo,  after  a  short  pre- 
amble, "  if  we  survey  the  most  populous  provinces  and  king- 
doms of  the  firm  earth,  we  observe  on  all  sides,  that  wher- 
ever an  available  soil  appears,  it  is  cultivated,  planted,. 


282  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

shaped,  beautified,  and,  in  the  same  proportion,  coveted, 
taken  into  possession,  fortified,  and  defended.  Hereby  we 
bring  home  to  our  conceptions  the  high  worth  of  property  in 
land,  and  are  obliged  to  consider  it  as  the  first  and  best 
acquirement  that  can  be  allotted  to  man.  And  if,  on  closer 
inspection,  we  find  parental  and  filial  love,  the  union  of  coun- 
trymen and  townsmen,  and  therefore  the  universal  feeling  of 
patriotism,  founded  immediately  on  this  same  interest  in  the 
soil,  we  cannot  but  regard  that  seizing  and  retaining  of 
space,  in  the  great  or  the  small  scale,  as  a  thing  still  more  im- 
portant and  venerable.  Yes,  Nature  herself  has  so  ordered  it ! 
A  man  born  on  the  glebe  comes  by  habit  to  belong  to  it:  the 
two  grow  together,  and  the  fairest  ties  are  spun  from  their 
union.  Who  is  there,  then,  that  would  spitefully  disturb  this 
foundation-stone  of  all  existence ;  that  would  blindly  deny 
the  worth  and  dignity  of  such  precious  and  peculiar  gifts  of 
Heaven  ? 

"And  yet  we  may  assert,  that  if  what  man  possesses  is  of 
great  worth,  what  he  does  and  accomplishes  must  be  of  still 
greater.  In  a  wide  view  of  things,  therefore,  we  must  look 
on  property  in  land  as  one  small  part  of  the  possessions 
that  have  been  given  us.  Of  these  the  greatest  and  the 
most  precious  part  consists  especially  in  what  is  movable, 
and  in  what  is  gained  by  a  moving  life. 

"Towards  this  quarter  we  younger  men  are  peculiarly 
constrained  to  turn ;  for,  though  we  had  inherited  from  our 
fathers  the  desire  of  abiding  and  continuing,  we  find  our- 
selves called  by  a  thousand  causes  nowise  to  shut  our  eyes 
against  a  wider  out-look  and  survey.  Let  us  hasten,  then, 
to  the  shore  of  the  ocean,  and  convince  ourselves  what 
boundless  spaces  are  still  lying  open  to  activity,  and  confess, 
that,  by  the  bare  thought  of  this,  we  are  roused  to  new. 
vigor. 

"Yet,  not  to  lose  ourselves  in  these  vast  expanses.,  let  U£ 
direct  our  attention  to  the  long  and  large  surface  of  so. many, 
countries  and  kingdoms  combined  together  on  the.  face-  of. 
the  earth.  Here  we  behold  great  tracts  of  land  tenanted;  by 
Nomades,  whose  towns  are  movable,  whose  Ufoi-support- 
ing  household  goods  can  be  transferred  from  place  to  ptaee. 
We  see  them  in  the  middle  of  the  deserts,  on  wide  green 
pasturages,  lying,  as  it  were,  at  anchor  in  their  desired 
haven.  Such  movement,  such  wandering,  becomes,  a  habit 
with  them,  a  necessity:  in  the  end  they  grow  to  regard  the 
surface  of  the  world  as  if  it  were  not  bulwarked  by  nioun- 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  283 

tains,  were  not  cut  asunder  by  streams.  Have  we  not  seen 
the  North-east  flow  towards  the  South-west ;  one  people  driv- 
ing another  before  it,  and  lordship  and  property  altogether 
changed  ? 

"  From  over-populous  countries,  a  similar  calamity  ma}- 
again,  in  the  great  circle  of  vicissitudes,  occur  more  than 
once.  What  we  have  to  dread  from  foreigners,  it  may  be 
difficult  to  sa}- ;  but  it  is  curious  enough,  that,  by  our  own 
over-population,  we  ourselves  are  thronging  one  another  in 
our  own  domains,  and,  without  waiting  to  be  driven,  are  driv- 
ing one  another  forth,  passing  sentence  of  banishment  each 
against  his  fellow. 

"  Here  now  is  the  place  and  season  for  giving  scope  in 
our  bosoms,  without  spleen  or  anger,  to  a  love  of  movement ; 
for  unfettering  that  impatient  wish  which  excites  us  to 
change  our  abode.  Yet  whatever  we  may  purpose  and  in- 
tend, let  it  be  accomplished,  not  from  passion,  or  from  any 
other  influence  of  force,  but  from  a  conviction  correspond- 
ing to  the  wisest  judgment  and  deliberation. 

"  It  has  been  said,  and  over  again  said,  Where  I  am  well 
is  my  country  !  But  this  consolatory  saw  were  better  worded, 
Where  I  am  useful  is  my  country !  At  home  you  may  be 
useless,  and  the  fact  not  instantly  observed :  abroad  in  the 
world,  the  useless  man  is  speedily  convicted.  And  now,  if  I 
say,  Let  each  endeavor  everywhere  to  be  of  use  to  himself 
and  others,  this  is  not  a  precept  or  a  counsel,  but  the  utter- 
ance of  life  itself. 

"  Cast  a  glance  over  the  terrestrial  ball,  and  for  the  pres- 
ent leave  the  ocean  out  of  sight :  let  not  its  hurrying  fleets 
distract  your  thoughts,  but  fix  your  eye  on  the  firm  earth, 
and  be  amazed  to  see  how  it  is  overflowed  with  a  swarming 
ant-tribe,  jostling  and  crossing,  and  running  to  and  fro  for- 
ever !  80  was  it  ordained  of  the  Lord  himself,  when,  ob- 
structing the  Tower  of  Babel,  he  scattered  the  human  race 
abroad  into  all  the  world.  Let  us  praise  his  name  on  this 
account,  for  the  blessing  has  extended  to  all  generations. 

"Observe  now,  and  cheerfully,  how  the  young,  on  every 
side,  instantly  get  into  movement.  As  instruction  is  not 
offered  them  within  doors,  and  knocks  not  at  their  gates, 
they  hasten  forthwith  to  those  countries  and  cities  whither  the 
call  of  science  and  wisdom  allures  them.  Here,  no  sooner  have 
they  gained  a  rapid  and  scanty  training,  than  they  feel  them- 
selves impelled  to  look  round  in  the  world,  whether  here  and 
there  some  profitable  experience,  applicable  to  their  objects. 


284  MEISTER'S   TRAVELS. 

ma}*  not  be  met  with  and  appropriated.  Let  these  try  their 
fortune !  We  turn  from  them  to  those  completed  and  dis- 
tinguished men,  those  noble  inquirers  into  nature,  who  wit- 
tingly encounter  every  difficulty,  every  peril,  that  to  the 
world  they  may  lay  the  world  open,  and,  through  the  most 
impassable,  pave  easy  roads. 

*'  But  observe  also,  on  beaten  highways,  how  dust  on  dust, 
in  long,  cloudy  trains,  mounts  up,  betokening  the  track  of 
commodious,  top-laden  carriages,  in  which  the  rich,  the 
noble,  and  so  many  others,  are  whirled  along ;  whose  vary- 
ing purposes  and  dispositions  Yorick  has  most  daintily  ex- 
plained to  us. 

"These  the  stout  craftsman,  on  foot,  may  cheerily  gaze 
after ;  for  whom  his  country  has  made  it  a  duty  to  appro- 
priate foreign  skill,  and  not,  till  this  has  been  accomplished, 
to  revisit  his  paternal  hearth.  In  still  greater  numbers  do 
traffickers  and  dealers  meet  us-  on  our  road :  the  little  trader 
must  not  neglect,  from  time  to  time,  to  forsake  his  shop, 
that  he  may  visit  fairs  and  markets,  may  approach  the  great 
merchant,  and  increase  his  own  small  profit,  by  example  and 
participation  of  the  boundless.  But  yet  more  restlessly  do 
we  descry  cruising  on  horseback,  singly,  on  all  high  and  by 
ways,  that  multitude  of  persons  whose  business  it  is,  in  law- 
ful wise,  to  make  forcible  pretension  to  our  purses.  Samples 
of  all  sorts,  prize  catalogues,  invitations  to  purchase,  pursue 
us  into  town-houses  and  country-houses,  and  wherever  we 
may  seek  refuge  :  diligently  they  assault  us  and  surprise  us  ; 
themselves  offering  the  opportunity,  which  it  would  have  en- 
tered no  man's  mind  to  seek.  And  what  shall  I  say  of  that 
people  which,  before  all  others,  arrogates  to  itself  the  bless- 
ing of  perpetual  wandering,  and,  by  its  movable  activity,  con- 
trives to  overreach  the  resting  and  to  overstep  the  walking  ? 
Of  them  we  must  say  neither  ill  nor  good,  —  no  good,  because 
our  League  stands  on  its  guard  against  them  ;  no  ill,  because 
the  wanderer,  mindful  of  reciprocal  advantage,  is  bound  to 
treat  with  friendliness  whomsoever  he  may  meet. 

"  But  now,  above  all,  we  must  mention  with  peculiar  affec- 
tion the  whole  race  of  artists  ;  for  they,  too,  are  thoroughly 
involved  in  this  universal  movement.  Does  not  the  painter 
wander,  with  palette  and  easel,  from  face  to  face?  and  are 
not  his  kindred  laborers  summoned  now  this  way,  now  that, 
because  in  all  places  there  is  something  to  be  built  and  to  be 
fashioned?  More  briskly,  however,  paces  the  musician  on 
his  way ;  for  he  peculiarly  it  is  that  for  a  new  ear  has  pro- 


MEISTER'S   TRAVELS.  285 

vicled  new  surprise,  for  a  fresh  mind  fresh  astonishment. 
Players,  too,  though  they  now  despise  the  cart  of  Thespis, 
still  rove  about  in  little  choirs ;  and  their  moving  world, 
wherever  they  appear,  is  speedily  enough  built  up.  So  like- 
wise, individually,  renouncing  serious,  profitable  engage- 
ments, these  men  delight  to  change  place  with  place,  according 
as  rising  talents,  combined  with  rising  wants,  furnish  pretext 
and  occasion.  For  this  success  they  commonly  prepare  them- 
selves by  leaving  no  important  stage  in  their  native  land 
untrodden. 

"  Nor  let  us  forget  to  cast  a  glance  over  the  professorial 
class :  these,  too,  you  find  in  continual  motion,  occupying 
and  forsaking  one  chair  after  the  other,  to  scatter  richly 
abroad  on  every  side  the  seeds  of  a  hasty  culture.  More 
assiduous,  however,  and  of  wider  aim,  are  those  pious  souls 
who  disperse  themselves  through  all  quarters  of  the  world  to 
bring  salvation  to  their  brethren.  Others,  on  the  contrary, 
are  pilgriming  to  seek  salvation  for  themselves :  they  march 
in  hosts  to  consecrated,  wonder-working  places,  there  to  ask 
and  receive  what  was  denied  their  souls  at  home. 

"  And  if  all  these  sorts  of  men  surprise  us  less  by  their 
wandering,  as,  for  most  part,  without  wandering,  the  busi- 
ness of  their  life  were  impossible,  of  those,  again,  who  dedi- 
cate their  diligence  to  the  soil,  we  should  certainly  expect 
that  they,  at  least,  were  fixed.  By  no  means  !  Even  without 
possession,  occupation  is  conceivable ;  and  we  behold  the 
eager  farmer  forsaking  the  ground  which  for  years  had 
yielded  him  profit  and  enjoyment :  impatiently  he  searches 
after  similar  or  greater  profit,  be  it  far  or  near.  Nay,  the 
owner  himself  will  abandon  his  new-grubbed  clearage  so  soon 
as,  by  his  cultivation,  he  has  rendered  it  commodious  for  a 
less  enterprising  husbandman  :  once  more  he  presses  into  the 
wilderness,  again  makes  space  for  himself  in  the  forests,  —  in 
recompense  of  that  first  toiling  a  double  and  treble  space ; 
on  which  also,  it  may  be,  he  thinks  not  to  continue. 

'•  There  we  shall  leave  him,  bickering  with  bears  and  other 
monsters,  and  turn  back  into  the  polished  world,  where  we 
find  the  state  of  things  no  whit  more  stationary.  Do  but 
view  any  great  and  regulated  kingdom  :  the  ablest  man  is 
also  the  man  who  moves  the  oftenest;  at  the  beck  of  his 
prince,  at  the  order  of  his  minister,  the  Serviceable  is  trans- 
ferred from  place  to  place.  To  him  also  our  precept  will 
apply,  Everywhere  endeavor  to  be  useful,  everywhere  you 
are  at  home.  Yet  if  we  observe  important  statesmen  leaving, 


286  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

though  reluctantly,  their  high  stations,  we  have  reason  to  de- 
plore their  fate  ;  for  we  can  neither  recognize  them  as  emi- 
grators,  nor  as  migrators,  — not  as  emigrators,  because  the}* 
forego  a  covetable  situation  without  any  prospect  of  a  better 
even  seeming  to  open  ;  not  as  migrators,  because  to  be  use- 
ful in  other  places  is  a  fortune  seldom  granted  them. 

"  For  the  soldier,  again,  a  life  of  peculiar  wandering  is  ap- 
pointed :  even  in  peace,  now  this,  now  that,  post  is  intrusted 
to  him ;  to  fight,  at  hand  or  afar  off,  for  his  native  country, 
he  must  keep  himself  perpetually  in  motion,  or  readiness  to 
move  ;  and  not  for  immediate  defence  alone,  but  also  to  ful- 
fil the  remote  purposes  of  nations  and  rulers,  he  turns  his 
steps  towards  all  quarters  of  the  world ;  and  to  few  of  his 
craft  is  it  given  to  find  any  resting-place.  And  as  in  the 
soldier  courage  is  his  first  and  highest  quality,  so  this  must 
always  be  considered  as  united  with  fidelity  ;  and,  accordingly, 
we  find  certain  nations  famous  for  trustworthiness,  called 
forth  from  their  home,  and  serving  spiritual  or  temporal  re- 
gents as  body-guards. 

"Another  class  of  persons  indispensable  to  governments, 
and  also  of  extreme  mobility,  we  see  in  those  negotiators 
who,  despatched  from  court  to  court,  beleaguer  princes  and 
ministers,  and  overnet  the  whole  inhabited  world  with  their 
invisible  threads.  Of  these  men,  also,  no  one  is  certain  of 
his  place  for  a  moment.  In  peace,  the  ablest  of  them  are 
sent  from  country  to  country  ;  in  war,  they  march  behind  the 
army  when  victorious,  prepare  the  way  for  it  when  fugitive : 
and  thus  are  they  appointed  still  to  be  changing  place  for 
place  ;  on  which  account,  indeed,  they  at  all  times  carry  with 
them  a  stock  of  farewell  cards. 

"  If  hitherto  at  every  step  we  have  contrived  to  do  our- 
selves some  honor,  declaring,  as  we  have  done,  the  most 
distinguished  portion  of  active  men  to  be  our  mates  and 
fellows  in  destiny,  there  now  remains  for  you,  my  beloved 
friends,  by  way  of  termination,  a  glory  higher  than  all  the 
rest,  seeing  you  find  yourselves  united  in  brotherhood  with 
princes,  kings,  and  emperors.  Think  first,  with  blessings  and 
reverence,  of  the  imperial  wanderer  Hadrian,  who  on  foot, 
at  the  head  of  his  army,  paced  out  the  circle  of  the  world 
which  was  subject  to  him,  and  thus  in  very  deed  took  posses- 
sion of  it.  Think  then  with  horror  of  the  Conqueror,  that 
armed  wanderer,  against  whom  no  resistance  availed,  no 
wall  or  bulwark  could  shelter  armed  nations.  In  fine,  accom- 
pany with  honest  sympathy  those  hapless  exiled  princes  who, 


MEISTER'S  TRAVELS.  287 

descending  from  the  summit  of  the  height,  cannot  even  be 
received  into  the  modest  guild  of  active  wanderers. 

"And  now,  while  we  call  forth  and  illustrate  all  this  to 
one  another,  no  narrow  despondency,  no  passionate  perver- 
sion, can  rule  over  us.  The  time  is  past  when  people  rushed 
forth  at  random  into  the  wide  world :  by  the  labors  of  scien- 
tific travellers,  describing  wisely  and  copying  like  artists,  we 
have  become  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  earth  to  know 
moderately  well  what  is  to  be  looked  for  everywhere. 

"  Yet,  for  obtaining  perfect  information,  an  individual  will 
not  suffice.  Our  society  is  founded  on  the  principle  that 
each  in  his  degree,  for  his  purposes,  be  thoroughly  informed. 
Has  any  one  of  us  some  country  in  his  eye,  towards  which 
his  wishes  are  tending,  we  endeavor  to  make  clear  to  him, 
in  special  detail,  what  was  hovering  before  his  imagination 
as  a  whole :  to  afford  each  other  a  survey  of  the  inhabited 
and  inhabitable  world  is  a  most  pleasant  and  most  profitable 
kind  of  conversation. 

"Under  this  aspect  we  can  look  upon  ourselves  as  mem- 
bers of  a  Union  belonging  to  the  world.  Simple  and  grand 
is  the  thought,  easy  is  its  execution  by  understanding  and 
strength.  Unity  is  all-powerful ;  no  division,  therefore,  no 
contention,  among  us !  Let  a  man  learn,  we  say,  to  figure 
himself  as  without  permanent  external  relation  :  let  him  seek 
consistency  and  sequence,  not  in  circumstances,  but  in  him- 
self ;  there  will  he  find  it ;  there  let  him  cherish  and  nourish 
it.  He  who  devotes  himself  to  the  most  needful  will,  in  all 
cases,  advance  to  his  purpose  with  greatest  certainty  :  others, 
again,  aiming  at  the  higher,  the  more  delicate,  require  greater 
prudence  even,  in  the  choice  of  their  path.  But  let  a  man  be 
attempting  or  treating  what  he  will,  he  is  not,  as  an  indi- 
vidual, sufficient  for  himself  ;  and,  to  an  honest  mind,  society 
remains  the  highest  want.  All  serviceable  persons  ought  to 
be  related  with  each  other ;  as  the  building  proprietor  looks 
out  for  an  architect,  and  the  architect  for  masons  and  car- 
penters. 

"  How  and  on  what  principle  this  Union  of  ours  has  been 
fixed  and  founded  is  known  to  all.  There  is  no  man  among 
us  who  at  any  moment  could  not  to  proper  purpose  employ 
his  faculty  of  action,  who  is  not  assured  that  in  all  places 
whither  chance,  inclination,  or  even  passion  may  conduct 
him,  he  will  be  received,  employed,  assisted, — nay,  in  ad- 
verse accidents,  as  far  as  possible,  refitted  and  indemnified. 

"  Two  duties  we  have  most  rigorously  undertaken,  —  first, 


288  MEISTER'S  TRAVELS. 

to  honor  every  species  of  religious  worship  ;  for  all  of  them 
are  comprehended  more  or  less  directly  in  the  Creed :  sec- 
ondly, in  like  manner  to  respect  all  forms  of  government, 
and,  since  every  one  of  them  induces  and  promotes  a  calcu- 
lated activity,  to  labor  according  to  the  wish  and  will  of  con- 
stituted authorities,  in  whatever  place  it  may  be  our  lot  to 
sojourn,  and  for  whatever  time.  Finally,  we  reckon  it  our 
duty,  without  pedantry  or  rigor,  to  practise  and  forward  de- 
corum of  manners  and  morals,  as  required  by  that  reverence 
for  ourselves  which  arises  from  the  three  reverences,  whereto 
we  universally  profess  our  adherence ;  having  all  had  the 
joy  and  good  fortune,  some  of  us  from  youth  upwards,  to 
be  initiated  likewise  in  the  higher  general  wisdom  taught  in 
certain  cases  by  those  venerable  men.  All  this,  in  the  solemn 
hour  of  parting,  we  have  thought  good  once  more  to  recount, 
to  unfold,  to  hear  and  acknowledge,  as  also  to  seal  with  a 
trustful  farewell. 

"  Keep  not  standing,  fixed  and  rooted, 

Briskly  venture,  briskly  roam: 
Head  and  hand,  where'er  thou  foot  it, 

And  stout  heart,  are  still  at  home. 
In  each  laud  the  sun  does  visit: 

We  are  gay  whate'er  betide. 
To  give  space  for  waud'riug  is  it 

That  the  world  was  made  so  wide." 


THE  RECREATIONS 


THE    GERMAN    EMIGRANTS. 


THE  BECREATIONS  OF  THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS, 


AT  that  unhappy  period,  so  fruitful  in  disasters  to  Ger- 
many, to  Europe,  and,  indeed,  to  the  whole  world,  when  the 
French  army  overran  the  Continent,  a  family  of  distinction 
was  compelled  to  forsake  their  property  on  the  first  invasion, 
and  to  flee  across  the  Rhine.  They  sought  to  escape  those 
calamities  to  which  persons  of  noble  birth  were  inevitably 
exposed,  in  whom  it  was  considered  criminal  to  be  descended 
from  an  honorable  line  of  ancestors,  and  to  inherit  those 
privileges  and  possessions  which  the  virtues  or  the  valor  of 
their  forefathers  had  bequeathed  to  them. 

The  Baroness  of  C ,  a  widow  lady  of  middle  age,  dis- 
tinguished for  every  domestic  virtue  which  could  promote  the 
comfort  or  independence  of  her  family,  evinced,  upon  the  oc- 
casion of  this  unforeseen  calamity,  the  most  noble  spirit  of 
activity  and  resolute  determination.  Brought  up  amidst  a 
wide  circle  of  acquaintances,  and,  to  some  extent,  already 
experienced  in  the  reverses  of  life,  she  was  considered  perfect 
in  her  private  and  domestic  character,  and  was  remarkable 
for  the  real  delight  she  ever  felt  in  the  active  emplo}Tment  of 
her  faculties.  Indeed,  the  great  purpose  of  her  life  seemed 
to  consist  in  rendering  services  to  others ;  and  it  is  easy  to 
suppose  that  her  numerous  friends  never  failed  to  provide 
her  with  employment.  She  was  summoned,  at  the  time  we 
speak  of,  to  take  the  lead  of  a  little  band  of  emigrants. 
Even  for  this  duty  she  was  prepared ;  and  the  same  solici- 
tous though  cheerful  temper,  which  had  invariably  distin- 
guished her  at  home,  did  not  forsake  her  in  this  hour  of 
general  terror  and  distress.  But  cheerfulness  was  not  an 
entire  stranger  to  our  band  of  fugitives  :  many  an  unexpected 
incident  and  strange  event  afforded  occasion  for  the  indul- 

291 


292  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

gence  of  mirth  and  laughter,  of  which  their  easih'  excited 
minds  readily  took  advantage.  The  very  flight  itself  was 
a  circumstance  well  calculated  to  call  out  each  individual's 
peculiar  character  in  a  remarkable  manner.  The  mind  of 
one,  for  instance,  was  distracted  by  vain  fear  and  terror ; 
another  fell  a  prey  to  idle  apprehensions ;  and  the  extrava- 
gances and  deficiencies,  the  weakness,  irresolution,  or  impetu- 
osity, which  were  displayed  on  all  sides,  produced  so  many 
instances  of  vexation  and  bad  temper,  that  the  real  trouble 
of  the  whole  party  afforded  more  mirth  than  an  actual  pleas- 
ure trip  could  possibly  have  occasioned. 

As  we  may  sometimes  preserve  our  composure,  even  dur- 
ing the  performance  of  a  farce,  without  smiling  at  the  most 
positive  drolleries ;  though  we  find  it  impossible  to  restrain 
our  laughter  when  any  thing  absurd  occurs  in  the  represen- 
tation of  a  tragedy,  —  so  in  this  real  world,  the  generality  of 
accidents  of  a  serious  nature  are  accompanied  by  circum- 
stances either  ridiculous  at  the  moment,  or  infallibly  pro- 
ductive of  subsequent  mirth. 

We  must  observe  that  the  baroness's  eldest  daughter, 
Louisa,  a  cheerful,  lively,  and,  at  the  time  of  their  prosper- 
ity, an  imperious  young  lady,  had  to  endure  an  unusual 
degree  of  suffering.  She  is  said  to  have  been  quite  over- 
whelmed with  terror  at  the  first  alarm,  and,  in  her  distrac- 
tion and  absence  of  mind,  to  have  packed  together  the  most 
useless  things  with  the  greatest  seriousness,  and  actually 
to  have  made  an  offer  of  marriage  to  one  of  the  old  ser- 
vants of  the  establishment. 

She  defended  herself  for  this  step  with  much  obstinacy, 
and  would  not  allow  her  intended  to  be  made  a  subject  of 
ridicule.  In  her  opinion  she  suffered  -enough  from  her  daily 
fear  of  the  allied  army,  and  from  the  apprehension  that  her 
wished-for  marriage  might  be  delayed,  or  even  frustrated, 
by  a  general  engagement. 

Her  elder  brother,  Frederick,  who  was  a  youth  of  decisive 
character,  executed  his  mother's  orders  with  precision  and 
exactitude,  accompanied  the  procession  on  horseback,  and 
discharged  at  times  the  various  duties  of  courier,  conductor, 
and  guide.  The  tutor  of  the  baroness's  younger  son,  who 
was  a  well-educated  young  man,  accompanied  her  in  her 
carriage  ;  whilst  uncle  Charles,  and  an  elderly  clergyman, 
who  had  long  been  an  indispensable  friend  of  the  family, 
followed  in  another  vehicle,  which  was  also  occupied  by  two 
female  relations,  one  young,  the  other  somewhat  advanced 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  293 

in  years.  The  servants  followed  in  an  open  carriage ;  and 
the  procession  was  closed  by  a  heavily  packed  wagon,  which 
occasionally  loitered  behind. 

The  whole  party,  as  may  easily  be  supposed,  had  aban- 
doned their  dwellings  with  great  reluctance  ;  but  uncle  Charles 
had  forsaken  his  residence  on  this  side  of  the  Rhine  even  more 
unwillingly  than  the  others,  not  that  he  had  left  his  mistress 
behind,  as  one  might,  perhaps,  have  conjectured  from  his 
youth,  his  figure,  and  the  warmth  of  his  nature  :  he  had 
rather  been  seduced  by  the  brilliant  phantom,  which,  under 
the  denomination  of  freedom,  had  secured  so  many  adher- 
ents, first  iu  secret,  then  in  public,  and  which,  notwithstand- 
ing that  she  was  to  some  a  harsh  mistress,  was  all  the  more 
devotedly  honored  by  the  others. 

Just  as  lovers  are  generally  blinded  by  their  passion,  it 
did  happen  in  the  case  of  uncle  Charles.  They  pant  for  the 
possession  of  a  single  happiness,  and  fancy  that  for  this 
they  can  endure  the  privation  of  every  other  blessing.  Posi- 
tion, fortune,  and  all  advantages,  vanish  into  nothing,  com- 
pared with  the  one  benefit  which  is  to  supply  their  place. 
Parents,  relatives,  and  friends  are  now  looked  upon  as  stran- 
gers. One  desire  fills  and  absorbs  their  whole  being,  to 
which  every  thing  else  is  to  give  way. 

Uncle  Charles  abandoned  himself  to  the  intensity  of  his 
passion,  and  did  not  conceal  it  in  his  conversation.  He 
thought  he  might  express  his  conviction  the  more  freely, 
because  he  was  of  noble  birth,  and,  although  the  second  son, 
yet  the  presumptive  heir  to  a  noble  fortune.  Even  this  for- 
tune, which  was  to  be  his  future  inheritance,  was  at  present 
in  the  enemy's  hands,  by  whom  it  had  been  shamefully 
wasted.  But;,  in  spite  of  all  this,  Charles  could  not  hate  a 
nation  which  promised  such  advantages  to  the  world  at 
large,  and  whose  principles  he  approved,  according  to  his 
own  admission,  and  the  evidence  of  some  of  his  associates. 
He  constantly  disturbed  the  peace  of  the  little  community 
(seldom  as  they  enjoyed  such  a  blessing)  by  an  indiscrimi- 
nate praise  of  every  thing,  good  or  bad,  which  happened 
amongst  the  French,  and  by  his  noisy  delight  at  their  suc- 
cess. By  this  means  he  irritated  his  companions,  who  felt 
their  own  grievances  doubly  aggravated  by  the  malicious 
triumphs  of  their  friend  and  relation. 

Frederick  had  already  been  engaged  in  frequent  disputes 
with  him,  and  latterly  they  had  ceased  to  hold  communica- 
tion with  each  other.  But  the  baroness,  by  her  prudent 


294  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

management,  had  secured  his  moderation,  at  least  for  a 
time.  Louisa  gave  him  the  greatest  trouble,  for  she  often 
used  the  most  unfair  methods  to  cast  a  slur  upon  his  char- 
acter and  judgment.  The  tutor  silently  pronounced  him 
right,  the  clergyman  silently  pronounced  him  wrong :  and 
the  female  attendants,  who  were  charmed  with  his  figure 
and  with  his  liberality,  heard  him  with  delight ;  because, 
whilst  they  listened  to  his  lectures,  they  could  honorably 
fix  ou  him  those  loving  eyes,  which,  until  that  time,  had 
ever  been  modestly  bent  upon  the  ground. 

Their  daily  necessities,  the  obstacles  of  the  journey,  and 
their  disagreeable  quarters,  generally  led  the  whole  com- 
pany to  a  consideration  of  their  immediate  interests ;  and 
the  great  number  of  French  and  German  fugitives  whom 
they  constantly  met,  and  whose  conduct  and  fortunes  were 
various,  often  made  them  consider  how  much  occasion  ex- 
isted at  such  times  for  the  practice  of  every  virtue,  but  par- 
ticularly of  liberality  and  forbearance. 

The  baroness,  on  one  occasion,  observed  aloud,  that  noth- 
ing could  show  more  clearly  the  deficiencies  of  men  in  these 
virtues  than  the  opportunity  afforded  for  their  exercise, 
by  occasions  of  general  confusion  and  distress.  Our  whole 
constitution,  she  maintained,  resembled  a  ship  chartered  in 
a  season  of  tempest,  to  convey  a  countless  crowd  of  men, 
old  and  young,  healthy  and  infirm,  across  a  stormy  sea ;  but 
only  in  the  hour  of  shipwreck  could  the  capabilities  of  the 
crew  be  displayed,  —  an  emergency  when  even  the  good 
swimmer  often  perished. 

Fugitives,  for  the  most  part,  carry  their  faults  and  ridicu- 
lous peculiarities  along  with  them ;  and  we  wonder  at  this 
circumstance.  But  as  the  English  traveller  never  leaves  his 
teakettle  behind  in  any  quarter  of  the  globe ;  so  are  the 
generality  of  mankind  invariably  accompanied  by  their  stock 
of  proud  pretensions,  vanity,  intolerance,  impatience,  obsti- 
nacy, prejudices,  and  envy.  Thus,  the  thoughtless  enjoyed 
this  flight  as  they  would  have  enjoyed  a  party  of  pleasure ; 
and  the  discontented  required,  even  now  in  their  moments  of 
abject  poverty,  that  their  every  want  should  be  supplied. 
How  rare  is  the  display  of  that  pure  virtue  which  incites  us 
to  live  and  sacrifice  ourselves  for  others  ! 

In  the  mean  time,  whilst  numerous  acquaintances  were 
formed,  which  gave  occasion  to  reflections  of  this  nature, 
the  season  of  winter  was  brought  to  a  close.  Fortune  once 
more  smiled  on  the  German  arms,  the  French  were  again 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  295 

driven  across  the  Rhine,  Frankfort  was  relieved,  and  Mainz 
was  invested. 

Trusting  to  the  farther  advance  of  our  victorious  troops, 
and  anxious  to  take  possession  of  a  part  of  their  recovered 
property,  the  family  we  speak  of  set  out  for  an  estate  situ- 
ated in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  country,  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Rhine.  We  can  ill  describe  the  rapture 
with  which  they  once  more  beheld  the  silver  stream  flowing 
beneath  their  windows,  the  joy  with  which  they  took  pos- 
session of  every  part  of  their  house,  and  hailed  the  sight  of 
their  well-known  furniture,  their  old  family  pictures,  and 
of  every  trifle  they  had  long  given  up  as  totally  lost ;  and 
they  indulged  the  fondest  anticipations  of  finding  every 
thing  flourishing  as  heretofore  on  their  side  of  the  Rhine. 

The  arrival  of  the  baroness  had  scarcely  been  announced 
in  the  village,  when  all  her  former  acquaintances,  friends, 
and  dependants  hastened  to  welcome  her,  to  recount  the 
various  vicissitudes  of  the  last  few  months,  and,  in  more 
than  one  instance,  to  implore  her  advice  and  assistance. 

In  the  midst  of  these  interviews,  she  was  most  agreeably 
surprised  by  a  visit  from  the  Privy  Councillor  8.  and  his 
family,  a  man  who,  from  his  earliest  youth,  had  followed 
business  as  a  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  who  had  both  merited 
and  acquired  the  confidence  of  his  sovereign.  His  principles 
were  firm,  and  he  indulged  his  own  peculiar  notions  upon 
many  subjects.  He  was  precise,  both  in  his  conversation  and 
conduct,  and  required  others  to  be  so  too.  A  dignified  de- 
portment was,  in  his  opinion,  the  highest  virtue  a  man  could 
possess. 

His  sovereign,  his  country,  and  himself  had  suffered  much 
from  the  invasion  of  the  French.  He  had  experienced  the 
despotic  character  of  that  nation  who  were  perpetually  boast- 
ing of  justice,  and  had  felt  the  tyranny  of  men  who  always 
had  the  cry  of  freedom  on  their  lips.  He  had  observed, 
however,  the  general  consistency  of  character  which  pre- 
vailed, and  had  marked  how  many  persons  witnessed,  with 
feelings  of  angry  disappointment,  the  substitution  of  mere 
words  for  practice,  and  of  empty  appearance  for  reality. 
The  consequences  to  be  expected  from  an  unfortunate  cam- 
paign did  not  escape  his  acute  penetration  any  more  than 
the  results  of  the  general  maxims  and  opinions  we  have 
quoted,  though  it  must  be  admitted  his  views  upon  all  sub- 
jects were  neither  cheerful  nor  dispassionate. 

His  wife,  who  had  been  an  early  friend  of  the  baroness, 


296  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

after  the  experience  of  so  much  adversit}'  found  a  perfect 
paradise  in  the  arms  of  her  former  companion.  They  had 
grown  up  together,  had  been  educated  together,  and  had 
always  shared  each  other's  confidence.  The  early  inclina- 
tions of  their  youth,  their  more  important  matrimonial  inter- 
ests, their  joys  and  cares  and  domestic  anxieties,  had  always 
been  communicated,  either  personally  or  by  correspondence, 
as  they  had  for  years  maintained  an  uninterrupted  intimacy 
with  each  other ;  but  this  was  at  length  broken  by  the  general 
troubles  of  the  eventful  times.  Their  present  intercourse 
was,  for  this  reason,  the  more  affectionate,  and  their  inter- 
views the  more  frequent ;  and  the  baroness  observed  with 
pleasure,  that  the  intimacy  of  Louisa  with  the  daughters  of 
her  friend  was  daily  increasing. 

Unfortunately  the  complete  enjoyment  of  that  delightful 
part  of  the  country  was  often  disturbed  by  the  roar  of 
cannon,  which  was  heard  in  the  distance,  sometimes  loudly 
and  sometimes  indistinctly,  according  to  the  point  of  the 
wind.  Moreover,  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  conversations 
upon  political  subjects,  which  were  introduced  by  the  per- 
petual rumors  of  the  day,  and  which  generally  disturbed  the 
temporary  tranquillity  of  society ;  as  the  various  ideas  and 
opinions  of  all  parties  were  usually  propounded  without 
reserve. 

And  as  intemperate  men  seldom  refrain  from  wine  or  inju- 
rious food  on  account  of  their  experience  of  the  evil  conse- 
quences which  such  enjoyments  occasion  ;  so,  in  this  instance, 
the  several  members  of  the  society  we  speak  of,  in  place 
of  imposing  restraint  upon  their  conversation,  abandoned 
themselves  to  the  irresistible  impulse  of  vexing  each  other, 
and  thus  eventually  opened  a  channel  of  most  disagreeable 
reflections. 

We  can  readily  suppose  that  the  privy  councillor  adopted 
the  opinions  of  those  who  advocated  the  old  regime,  and 
that  Charles  took  the  opposite  side,  in  expectation  that  the 
approaching  changes  would  heal  and  re-animate  the  old, 
shattered  constitution  of  the  country. 

The  conversation  was  carried  on  at  first  with  some  degree 
of  moderation,  particularly  as  the  baroness  sought,  by  her 
well-timed  and  graceful  interruptions,  to  maintain  the  balance 
equal  between  both  parties ;  but  when  the  important  crisis 
of  the  conversation  arrived,  and  the  investment  of  Mainz 
was  about  to  change  to  an  actual  siege,  and  the  fears  of  all 
increased  for  that  beautiful  city  and  its  abandoned  inhabit- 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  297 

ants,  both  sides  asserted  their  opinions  with  unrestrained 
violence. 

The  members  of  the  clubs  who  had  remained  in  the  town 
were  particularly  discussed ;  and  each  expressed  his  hope  of 
their  liberation  or  punishment,  according  as  he  approved  or 
condemned  their  conduct. 

Amongst  the  latter  class  was  the  privy  councillor,  whose 
observations  were  especially  displeasing  to  Charles  ;  as  he 
assailed  the  sound  judgment  of  those  people,  and  charged 
them  with  a  thorough  ignorance  of  the  world  and  of  them- 
selves. 

"  What  blind  dolts  they  must  be !  "  he  exclaimed  one 
afternoon  when  the  discussion  became  warm,  "  to  think  that 
a  great  nation,  employed  in  an  effort  to  suppress  its  own 
internal  commotions,  and  which,  in  sober  moments,  has  no 
other  object  than  its  own  prosperity,  can  look  down  upon 
them  with  any  sort  of  sympathy.  Used  as  temporary  tools, 
they  will  at  last  be  thrown  away  or  utterly  neglected.  How 
grossly  they  err  in  thinking  that  they  will  ever  be  admitted 
into  the  ranks  of  the  French  nation  ! 

"  Nothing  seems  more  ridiculous  to  the  strong  and  power- 
ful than  weakness  and  inefficiency  setting  up  its  pretensions 
to  equality,  wrapped  in  the  obscurity  of  its  own  fancies,  and 
in  the  ignorance  of  itself,  its  powers,  and  its  qualities. 
And  can  you  suppose  that  the  great  nation,  with  that  good 
fortune  with  which  it  has  been  hitherto  favored,  will  be  less 
haughty  and  overbearing  than  any  other  royal  conqueror? 

''Many  a  person,  who  now  struts  about  in  his  municipal 
robes  and  gaudy  attire,  will  heartily  curse  the  masquerade 
when,  after  having  helped  to  oppress  his  countrymen,  by  a 
new  and  disadvantageous  change  of  things  he  h'nds  himself 
at  last,  in  his  new  character,  despised  by  those  in  whom  he 
wholly  confided.  Indeed,  it  is  my  firm  opinion,  that  upon 
the  surrender  of  the  town,  which  must  soon  take  place,  those 
people  will  be  abandoned  or  given  up  to  us.  I  hope  they  will 
then  receive  their  reward  in  that  punishment  they  so  richly 
deserve,  according  to  my  opinion,  which  is  as  unprejudiced 
as  possible." 

"Unprejudiced!"  exclaimed  Charles  with  vehemence: 
"  I  beg  I  may  never  hear  that  word  again.  How  can  we 
so  unequivocally  condemn  these  men?  Have  they  not  actu- 
ally devoted  their  whole  lives  to  the  old  pursuit  of  serving 
the  more  favored  classes  of  mankind?  Have  they  not 
occupied  the  few  habitable  rooms  of  the  old  mansion,  and 


298  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

toiled  diligently  therein?  or,  rather,  have  they  not  felt  the 
inconvenience  of  the  deserted  part  of  your  state  palace, 
by  the  obligation  of  living  there  in  a  state  of  misery  and 
oppression?  Uncorrupted  by  frivolous  pursuits,  they  do  not 
consider  their  own  occupation  to  be  alone  noble ;  but  in 
silence  they  deplore  the  prejudice,  the  irregularity,  the  indo- 
lence and  ignorance  upon  which  your  statesmen  build  their 
foolish  claims  to  reverence,  and  in  silence  they  pray  for  a 
more  equal  division  of  labor  and  enjoyment.  And  who  can 
deny  that  their  ranks  contain  at  least  some  such  men  of 
intelligence  and  virtue,  who,  if  they  cannot  now  realize 
universal  good,  can  fortunately  aid  in  modifying  evil  and 
in  preparing  for  a  happy  future  ?  and,  if  there  be  such  noble 
beings  amongst  them,  should  we  not  deplore  the  approach 
of  that  evil  hour  which  must  destroy,  perhaps  forever,  their 
fondest  anticipations  ? 

The  privy  councillor,  upon  this,  sneered  with  some  degree 
of  bitterness  at  certain  youths  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
idealizing  upon  practical  subjects  ;  whilst  Charles  was  equally 
severe  upon  men  whose  thoughts  were  merely  formed  upon 
antiquated  precedents,  and  who  never  adopted  any  but  com- 
pulsory reforms. 

By  reciprocal  contradictions  of  this  nature,  the  dispute 
became  gradually  more  violent ;  and  every  topic  was  intro- 
duced which  has  for  so  many  years  tended  to  dismember 
society.  In  vain  did  the  baroness  endeavor  to  establish  a 
truce,  if  not  to  make  peace,  between  the  contending  parties ; 
and  the  wife  of  the  privy -councillor,  who  from  her  estimable 
qualities  had  acquired  some  influence  over  Charles's  dispo- 
sition, interposed  also  to  no  effect,  more  particularly  as  her 
husband  continued  to  launch  his  poisoned  shafts  against 
youth  and  inexperience,  and  enlarged  upon  the  especial  apti- 
tude of  children  to  play  with  fire,  a  dangerous  element  which 
they  were  wholly  unable  to  control. 

Charles,  forgetting  prudence  in  his  anger,  now  declared 
openly  that  he  wished  every  success  to  the  French  arms, 
and  called  upon  all  his  countrymen  to  aid  in  putting  an  end 
to  their  general  slavery  ;  expressing  his  conviction  that  their 
so-called  enemies  would  protect  every  noble  German  who 
should  join  them,  would  regard  them  and  treat  them  as  their 
own  countrymen,  and  crown  them  with  honors,  fortune, 
and  rewards,  in  place  of  sacrificing  or  leaving  them  in 
misery. 

But  the  councillor  maintained  it  was  ridiculous  to  suppose 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  299 

that  the  French  would  bestow  a  thought  upon  them,  whether 
they  capitulated  or  not ;  that  they  would  probably  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  allies,  by  whom  he  hoped  they  would  all 
be  hanged. 

Charles  was  provoked  by  this  speech,  and  expressed  his 
wish  that  the  guillotine  might  find  a  rich  harvest  in  Ger- 
man}-,  and  that  no  guilty  head  might  escape.  He  added 
some  cutting  observations  which  were  aimed  at  the  coun- 
cillor personally,  and  were  in  every  sense  offensive. 

"I  shall  take  leave  of  a  society,"  interrupted  the  latter, 
"  in  which  every  thing  is  now  slighted  which  once  seemed 
worthy  of  respect.  I  lament  that  I  should  be  for  the  second 
time  expelled,  and  now  by  a  fellow-countryman ;  but  I  am 
well  aware  that  less  pity  may  be  expected  from  this  new  foe 
than  from  the  French  themselves :  and  I  find  here  a  con- 
firmation of  the  old  proverb,  that  it  is  better  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Turks  than  of  renegades." 

So  saying,  he  rose,  and  left  the  apartment.  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  his  wife,  and  a  general  silence  ensued.  The 
baroness  expressed  her  displeasure  in  a  few  words  of  strong 
import.  Charles  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  The  coun- 
cillor's wife  returned  in  tears,  and  stated  that  her  husband 
had  given  directions  for  leaving,  and  had  actually  ordered 
the  carriage.  The  baroness  went  to  pacify  him ;  whilst  the 
young  ladies  wept,  and  kissed  each  other,  distressed  beyond 
measure  that  they  were  compelled  so  suddenly  and  so  un- 
expectedly to  separate.  The  baroness  returned  without 
succeeding  in  her  wishes.  Gradually  all  those  troubles 
approached  which  it  is  ever  the  lot  of  strangers  to  encounter. 
The  sad  moments  of  separation  and  departure  were  bitter 
beyond  expression.  Hope  vanished  with  the  appearance  of 
the  post-horses,  and  the  general  sorrow  was  redoubled. 

The  carriage  drove  off.  The  baroness  followed  it  with 
her  eyes  full  of  tears.  She  left  the  window,  and  sat  down 
to  her  embroidery-frame.  The  silence,  and  even  despair, 
was  universal.  Charles  showed  his  sorrow  by  sitting  in  a 
corner,  and  intently  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  book, 
directing  at  intervals  a  melancholy  look  towards  his  aunt. 
At  length  he  rose,  and  took  his  hat,  as  if  about  to  depart, 
but  turned  round  on  reaching  the  door,  and  approaching  his 
aunt  he  exclaimed,  with  a  countenance  truly  noble,  "  I  have 
offended  you,  my  dear  aunt,  I  have  distressed  you ;  but 
pardon  my  thoughtlessness :  I  acknowledge  my  fault,  and 
am  deeply  sensible  of  its  sad  consequences." 


300  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

"  I  forgive  you,"  replied  the  baroness :  "  I  entertain  no  ill- 
feeling  towards  you, —  you  are  a  good  and  noble  being,  but 
you  can  never  repair  the  injury  you  have  done.  Your  error 
has  deprived  me  of  a  friend  to  whom,  after  a  long  sepa- 
ration, I  had  been  restored  by  the  accident  of  our  joint 
misfortunes,  and  in  whose  society  I  have  forgotten  much  of 
the  misery  which  has  pursued  and  threatens  us.  She  her- 
self, driven  from  her  home  unde*  most  painful  circum- 
stances, and  long  a  fugitive,  after  a  short  repose  in  the 
society  of  old  and  beloved  friends,  in  this  delightful  spot 
and  comfortable  dwelling,  is  again  compelled  to  wander 
forth :  and  we  lose  the  company  of  her  husband,  who,  in 
spite  of  some  peculiarities,  is  a  man  of  noble  integrity, 
possessing  an  inexhaustible  knowledge  of  society  and  of 
the  world,  of  facts  and  experiences  which  he  is  ever  ready 
to  communicate  with  the  most  cheerful  and  delightful  will- 
ingness. Of  all  these  enjoyments  we  have  been  deprived  by 
your  fault,  and  how  can  you  restore  what  we  have  lost?  " 

Charles.  Spare  me,  my  dear  aunt.  I  feel  deeply  the 
weight  of  my  fault:  cease  to  explain  to  me  its  evident 
consequences. 

Baroness.  Rather  contemplate  them  as  closely  as  pos- 
sible. Talk  not  of  sparing  you :  only  inquire  how  your 
mind  may  be  corrected.  It  is  not  the  first  time  you  have 
thus  erred,  nor  will  it  be  the  last.  Ye  inexplicable  men ! 
Cannot  even  miser}',  which  brings  you  together  under  one 
roof,  and  confines  you  in  one  narrow  dwelling,  induce  you  to 
practise  forbearance  towards  each  other?  Do  you  need  any 
additional  calamities  besides  those  which  are  perpetually 
bursting  upon  you?  Consider  your  condition,  and  act  sen- 
sibly and  justly  towards  those  who,  in  truth,  would  deprive 
you  of  nothing.  Restrain  your  tempers  from  working  and 
fermenting  blindly,  like  some  storm  or  other  natural  phe- 
nomenon which  disturbs  the  world. 

Charles  made  no  reply.  The  tutor  advanced  from  the 
window,  where  he  had  been  standing,  towards  the  baroness, 
and  said  his  pupil  would  improve  ;  that  this  event  would  act 
as  a  warning,  that  .he  should  test  his  progress  daily,  that  he 
would  remember  the  distress  the  baroness  had  endured,  and 
would  afford  convincing  evidence  of  the  self-restraint  he 
could  practice. 

Baroness.  How  easily  men  deceive  themselves,  espe- 
cially in  this  particular.  Authority  is  so  delightful  a  word, 
and  it  sounds  so  noble  to  promise  to  control  ourselves.  Men 


THE  GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  301 

speak  of  it  with  pleasure,  and  would  persuade  us  that  they 
can  seriously  practise  the  virtue.  I  wish  I  had  ever  knowu 
a  man  capable  of  subduing  himself  in  the  smallest  particular. 
In  indifferent  matters  they  affect  resolution,  as  if  the  loss 
occasioned  actual  suffering ;  whilst  their  real  desires  are  con- 
sidered as  supremely  essential,  unavoidable,  and  indispensa- 
ble. I  have  never  known  a  man  capable  of  enduring  the 
smallest  privation. 

Tutor.  You  are  seldom  unjust,  and  I  have  never  seen  you 
so  overpowered  by  anger  and  disappointment  as  at  present. 

Baroness.  Well,  I  need  not  be  ashamed  of  my  anger. 
"When  I  think  of  my  friend,  who  is  now  pursuing  her  jour- 
ney in  discomfort,  weeping,  probably,  at  the  recollection  of 
our  inhospitality,  my  heart  burns  with  indignation. 

Tutor.  In  your  greatest  trouble,  I  have  never  seen  you 
so  agitated  and  exasperated  as  now. 

Baroness.  A  small  evil,  which  follows  closely  upon  a 
greater,  can  fill  the  cup ;  though,  in  truth,  it  is  no  small  evil 
to  lose  a  friend. 

Tutor.  Be  comforted,  and  rely  upon  our  improvement, 
and  that  we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  content  you. 

Baroness.  No  :  I  shall  rely  upon  none  of  you.  But,  for 
the  future,  I  will  demand  obedience  from  all.  I  will  com- 
mand in  my  own  house. 

"Command,  certainly!"  exclaimed  Charles;  "and  you 
shall  not  have  to  complain  of  our  disobedience." 

"My  severity  will  scarcely  be  very  harsh,"  rejoined  the 
baroness,  with  a  smile,  as  she  recovered  herself :  "I  am  not 
fond  of  commanding,  particularly  democrats  ;  but  I  will  give 
3*ou  some  advice,  and  make  one  request." 

Tutor.  Both  shall  we  consider  as  laws  to  be  strictly 
observed. 

Baroness.  It  would  be  ridiculous,  if  I  thought  to  impair 
the  interest  you  all  take  in  the  great  events  of  the  world,  — 
events,  the  victims  of  which  we  ourselves  have  become.  I 
cannot  change  the  opinions  which  exist  and  are  established 
in  the  mind  of  each  of  you,  according  to  his  peculiar  dis- 
position ;  and  it  would  be  no  less  harsh  than  foolish  to  re- 
quire of  you  to  suppress  them.  But  I  can  demand  this,  at 
least,  from  the  circle  in  which  I  live,  that  those  of  similar 
sentiments  shall  associate  peaceably  together,  and  converse 
in  harmony.  In  your  private  apartments,  during  your  walks, 
and  wherever  else  you  meet,  you  may  communicate  together 
at  will,  support  your  respective  opinions,  and  enjoy  the  grati- 


302  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

fication  of  an  ardent  conviction.  But,  my  dear  friends,  let 
us  not  forget  how  much  we  were  accustomed  to  sacrifice  of 
our  own  individual  opinions,  for  the  sake  of  general  har- 
mony, long  before  these  new  topics  became  the  fashion  ;  and, 
as  long  as  the  world  lasts,  we  must  all,  for  the  general  bene- 
fit, practise  some  outward  self-control.  It  is  not,  therefore, 
for  the  sake  of  virtue,  but  in  the  name  of  common  politeness, 
that  I  implore  you  now  to  concede  to  me  a  favor  which  I 
think  I  may  safely  say  you  have  always  granted  to  the  veri- 
est stranger. 

It  seems  to  me  strange,  continued  the  baroness,  that  we 
should  have  so  far  forgotten  ourselves.  What  has  become  of 
our  politeness  ?  It  used  to  be  the  custom  in  society  to  avoid 
topics  disagreeable  to  others.  Protestants,  in  the  company 
of  Catholics,  never  asserted  that  church  ceremonies  were 
ridiculous  ;  and  the  most  bigoted  Catholic  never  maintained, 
before  a  Protestant,  that  the  old  religion  afforded  the  only 
chance  of  salvation.  In  the  presence  of  a  mother  who  had 
lost  her  son,  no  one  displayed  the  deep  delight  he  took  in  his 
children  ;  and  an  inappropriate  word  occasioned  general  em- 
barrassment. It  seemed  the  duty  of  each  to  repair  the 
accidental  evil,  but  now  the  very  reverse  of  all  this  seems  to 
be  the  rule.  We  appear  to  seek  the  opportunity  of  introdu- 
cing subjects  calculated  to  give  pain.  Oh,  my  dear  friends, 
let  us  try  and  restore  the  old  system !  We  have  much  to 
endure  already  ;  and  who  knows  how  soon  the  smoke  of  the 
day,  or  the  flames  of  the  night,  may  announce  the  destruction 
of  our  dwellings  and  of  our  most  valued  possessions?  Let 
us,  at  least,  forbear  to  announce  this  intelligence  with  tri- 
umph :  let  us  cease,  by  our  own  bitter  observations,  to  im- 
press our  souls  with  calamities  which  it  is  painful  enough  to 
endure  in  silence. 

When  your  father  died,  was  it  your  habit  to  renew  my  grief 
upon  every  opportunity  by  a  reference  to  the  sad  subject? 
Did  you  not  rather  avoid  all  improper  allusion  to  his  memory, 
and  seek  by  your  love,  your  silent  sympathy,  and  your  inces- 
sant attentions,  to  soften  my  sorrow  and  relieve  my  pain? 
Should  not  we  now  practise  the  same  kind  forbearance,  which 
often  brings  more  consolation  than  the  offices  of  active  friend- 
ship, more  particularly  at  this  time,  when  ours  is  not  the 
grief  of  an  individual  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  multitude, 
where  sorrow  disappears  amid  the  general  content,  but  the 
grief  of  thousands,  where  but  few  indeed  are  capable  of  ex- 
periencing an  accidental  or  artificial  consolation  ? 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  303 

CJiarles.  My  dear  aunt,  you  have  sufficiently  humiliated 
us  :  may  we  take  your  hand  in  token  of  reconciliation  ? 

Baroness.  Here  it  is,  on  condition  that  you  will  obey  its 
guidance.  We  proclaim  a  general  amnesty,  which  it  is  now 
barely  possible  to  resolve  upon  with  sufficient  speed. 

The  young  ladies,  who  had  all  been  dissolved  in  tears  since 
the  event  we  have  related,  now  made  their  appearance,  but 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  be  reconciled  to  Charles. 

k%  You  are  welcome,  children,"  said  the  baroness,  address- 
ing them.  "•  We  have  just  had  a  serious  conversation,  which, 
I  trust,  will  establish  peace  and  harmony  amongst  us :  per- 
haps it  was  never  more  important  that  we  should  be  friends, 
and  enjoy  even  one  brief  portion  of  the  day.  Let  us  make 
this  resolution,  to  banish  from  our  conversation  all  reference 
to  the  mere  events  of  the  time.  How  long  have  we  been  de- 
prived of  all  instruction  and  entertaining  intercourse  !  How 
long  it  seems,  dear  Charles,  since  you  have  amused  us  with 
accounts  of  distant  lands,  with  whose  productions,  inhabit- 
ants, manners,  and  customs,  you  are  so  well  acquainted ! 
And  3"ou,"  continued  the  baroness,  addressing  the  tutor, 
'*  you  have  not  lately  instructed  us  in  history,  ancient  or  mod- 
ern, in  the  comparison  of  centuries  or  of  remarkable  men. 
And  you,  young  ladies  !  where  are  the  pretty  poems  you  used 
to  bring  forth  from  their  hiding-places  for  the  delight  of  your 
friends  ?  what  has  become  of  all  your  free  philosophic  obser- 
vations? Have  you  no  more  ambition  to  surprise  us  with 
some  wonderful  mineral  specimen,  some  unknown  plant,  or 
remarkable  insect,  brought  home  from  your  walks,  and  af- 
foi'ding  occasion  for  pleasing  speculations  on  the  mysterious 
connection  of  all  the  productions  of  nature  ?  Let  us  restore 
all  those  charming  amusements  'by  an  agreement,  a  resolu- 
tion, a  rule,  to  be  useful,  instructive,  and,  above  all  things, 
companionable,  towards  each  other ;  for  all  these  advantages 
we  can  enjoy,  even  in  the  most  extreme  adversity.  Your 
promise,  children." 

They  promised  eagerly.  "And  now  I  dismiss  you," 
added  the  baroness  :  "  the  evening  is  fine,  amuse  yourselves 
as  you  please ;  and  at  supper-time  let  us  enjoy  a  friendly 
communion  together,  after  so  long  an  interruption." 

The  company  separated.  Louisa  alone  remained  with  her 
mother.  She  could  not  so  easily  forget  the  misfortune  of 
losing  her  companion,  and  allowed  Charles,  whom  she  had 
invited  to  accompany  her  upon  a  walk,  to  set  out  alone. 
For  some  time  the  baroness  and  her  daughter  remained  to- 


304  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

gether,  when  the  clergyman  entered,  after  a  long  absence, 
entirely  ignorant  of  what  had,  in  the  mean  time,  happened. 
Laying  by  his  hat  and  stick,  he  took  a  seat,  and  was  about 
to  narrate  something,  when  Louisa,  pretending  to  continue 
a  conversation  with  her  mother,  cut  short  his  intention  with 
the  following  observations  :  — 

"  Some  of  our  company  will,  I  think,  find  the  arrange- 
ment we  have  come  to  rather  disagreeable.  When  we  lived 
in  the  country,  it  is  true,  we  were  sometimes  at  a  loss  for 
conversation ;  for  it  did  not  happen  so  often,  as  in  town, 
that  a  girl  could  be  slandered,  or  a  young  man  traduced : 
but  still  we  had  an  alternative  in  describing  the  follies  of 
two  great  nations,  in  finding  the  Germans  as  absurd  as  the 
French,  and  in  representing  first  one,  and  then  the  other,  as 
Jacobins  and  Radicals.  But,  if  these  topics  are  forbidden, 
some  of  our  society  will  be  rendered  stupid." 

"  Is  this  attack  aimed  at  me,  young  lady?  "  asked  the  old 
clergyman  with  a  smile.  ' '  You  know  how  ready  I  am  to  be 
sacrificed  for  the  benefit  of  the  company.  For  though  upon 
all  occasions  you  do  credit  to  your  instructors,  and  every 
one  finds  your  society  both  amiable  and  delightful,  yet  there 
is  a  certain  little  malicious  spirit  within  3'ou,  which,  notwith- 
standing all  your  efforts,  you  cannot  entirely  subdue,  and 
which  prompts  you  to  take  your  revenge  at  my  expense. 
Tell  me,  gracious  lady,"  he  continued,  turning  towards  the 
baroness,  "  what  has  occurred  during  my  absence,  and  what 
topics  have  been  excluded  from  our  society  ? ' ' 

The  baroness  informed  him  of  all  that  had  taken  place. 
He  listened  attentively,  and  then  observed  that  "  this  regu- 
lation would  probably  enable  many  persons  to  entertain  the 
compan}"  better  than  others." 

"  We  shall  be  able  to  endure  it,"  said  Louisa. 

"Such  an  arrangement,"  he  added,  "will  not  be  grievous 
to  those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  rely  upon  their  own 
resources :  on  the  contrary,  they  will  find  it  pleasant ;  since 
they  can  amuse  the  compau\r  with  such  pursuits  as  they  have 
followed  in  private.  And  do  not  be  offended,  young  lady, 
if  I  attribute  to  society  the  very  existence  of  all  newsmon- 
gers, spies,  and  slanderers.  For  my  part,  I  never  see  per- 
sons so  lively  and  so  animated,  either  at  a  learned  meeting 
or  at  a  public  lecture  convened  for  general  instruction,  as  in 
a  society  where  some  piece  of  scandal  is  introduced  which 
reflects  on  the  character  of  a  neighbor.  Ask  yourself,  or 
ask  others,  what  invests  a  piece  of  news  with  its  greatest 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  305 

charm?  Not  its  importance,  nor  its  influence,  but  its  mere 
novelty.  Nothing  old  is  cared  for :  novelty  by  itself  excites 
our  surprise,  awakens  the  imagination,  gently  agitates  the 
feelings,  and  requires  no  exertion  of  the  reasoning  powers. 
Every  man  can  take  the  most  lively  interest  in  a  piece  of 
news  with  the  least  trouble  to  himself :  indeed,  since  a  suc- 
cession of  new  events  carries  us  rapidly  from  one  circum- 
stance to  another,  nothing  is  more  welcome  to  the  generality 
of  mankind  than  this  inducement  to  constant  diversion,  and 
this  opportunity  of  venting  their  spleen  and  malice  in  an 
agreeable  and  varied  manner." 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Louisa,  "you  show  some  skill  at 
explanation :  just  now  you  censured  individuals,  at  present 
you  condemn  mankind  in  general." 

"I  do  not  require,"  he  answered,  "  that  you  should  ren- 
der me  justice :  but  this  I  must  say,  we  who  depend  upon 
society  must  act  according  to  its  rules  ;  and  it  would  be  safer 
to  provoke  its  resentment  than  its  ennui,  by  requiring  it  to 
think  or  reflect.  We  must  avoid  every  thing  that  would 
tend  to  this  result,  and  pursue  by  ourselves  in  private  what- 
ever would  prove  unpalatable  to  the  public." 

"  By  yourselves  in  private,"  said  Louisa,  "  many  a  bottle 
of  wine  will,  I  suppose,  be  drunk,  and  many  a  nap  taken  in 
the  daytime." 

"  I  have  never,"  continued  the  old  clergyman,  "  set  much 
value  upon  my  own  actions;  for  I  know  how. little  I  have 
done  for  others :  I  am,  however,  in  possession  of  something 
which  may,  perhaps,  afford  agreeable  relaxation  to  this 
societ3*,  circumstanced  as  it  is  at  present." 

"To  what  do  you  allude?  "  inquired  the  baroness. 

"Rely  upon  it,"  interrupted  Louisa,  "he  has  made  some 
marvellous  collection  of  scandals." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  replied  the  clergyman. 

"  We  shall  see,"  answered  Louisa.  i 

"Let  him  continue,  my  dear,"  said  the  baroness :  "and 
do  not  accustom  yourself  to  act  in  a  hard  and  unfriendly 
manner  towards  others,  even  in  jest ;  as  they  may  take  it  ill. 
AVe  have  no  need  to  increase  our  evil  habits  by  practising 
them  for  entertainment.  Tell  me,  my  dear  friend,  of  what 
does  your  collection  consist?  Will  it  conduce  to  our  amuse- 
ment ?  Have  you  been  long  employed  about  it  ?  Why  have 
you  never  mentioned  it  before?" 

"  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  the  whole  matter,"  re- 
joined the  old  clergyman.  "  I  have  lived  long  in  the  world,  % 


306  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

and  have  paid  much  attention  to  public  occurrences.  I  have 
neither  talent  nor  inclination  for  chronicling  great  actions, 
and  worldly  affairs  in  general  are  troublesome  to  me ;  but 
amongst  the  many  private  histories,  true  and  false,  which 
sometimes  happen  in  public  or  are  related  in  private,  there 
are  some  which  possess  a  greater  attraction  than  the  charm 
of  mere  novelty,  some  which  are  calculated  to  improve  us  by 
their  moral  application,  some  which  display  at  a  glance  the 
secret  springs  of  human  nature,  and  others,  again,  whose 
very  absurdities  are  amusing.  Amongst  the  multitude  of 
occurrences  which  attract  our  attention  and  our  malice  in 
ordinary  life,  and  which  are  as  common  as  the  individuals 
to  whom  they  relate,  I  have  noted  down  a  few  on  account 
of  their  peculiar  character,  because  they  engaged  and  ex- 
cited my  attention  and  feelings  ;  and  the  very  recollection  of 
them  has  never  failed  to  produce  a  momentary  sensation 
of  pure  and  tranquil  pleasure." 

u  I  am  curious  to  hear,"  said  the  baroness,  "  the  nature 
of  your  anecdotes,  and  to  learn  their  peculiar  character." 

"  You  may  easily  suppose,"  replied  the  clergyman,  "  that 
they  are  not  about  disputes  or  family  matters.  Such  things 
have  little  interest  except  for  those  who  are  engaged  in 
them." 

Louisa.     And  what  are  yours  about? 

Clergyman.  Why,  for  the  most  part,  they  treat  of  those 
emotions  by  which  friends  become  attached  or  disunited, 
happy  or  miserable,  and  by  which  they  are  more  frequently 
entangled  than  improved. 

Louisa.  Indeed  !  I  suppose  you  will  produce  a  collec- 
tion of  merry  adventures  for  our  instruction  and  improve- 
ment. Excuse  mo  for  making  this  observation,  dear  mamma  ; 
it  seems  so  evident :  and  it  is,  of  course,  allowable  to  speak 
the  truth. 

Clergyman.  I  suspect  that  you  will  not  find  any  thing  in 
the  whole  collection  which  may  be  styled  merry. 

Louisa.  —  And  what  would  you  consider  of  that  descrip- 
tion ? 

Clergyman.  Scandalous  dialogues  or  situations  are  my 
abhorrence.  I  object  equally  that  common  adventures,  which 
are  unworthy  of  engaging  our  attention,  should  be  told  with 
exaggerated  importance :  they  excite  our  expectations  un- 
duly, in  place  of  giving  real  pleasure  to  the  mind.  They 
make  a  mystery  of  that  which  should  be  wholly  unveiled,  or 
from  which  we  should  altogether  turn  our  eyes. 


T*HE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  307 

Louisa.  I  do  not  understand  you.  You  will,  however, 
relate  your  stories  with  some  degree  of  elegance.  I  hope  o".r 
ears  will  not  be  offended  by  any  coarse  adventures.  You 
must  consider  us  in  the  light  of  a  ladies'  seminary,  and  look 
for  our  thanks  as  your  recompense. 

Clergyman.  Nothing  of  the  sort.  But,  in  truth,  you  will 
hear  nothing  new,  particularly  as  I  have,  for  some  time  back, 
observed  that  you  never  miss  the  perusal  of  certain  criti- 
cisms in  some  of  the  learned  reviews. 

Louisa.     You  are  really  too,  bad, 

Clergyman.  You  are  engaged  to  be  married,  and  I  there- 
fore pardon  you.  But;  I  am  obliged  to  show  that  I  also 
possess  aiTows  which  I  kj»ow  how  to  use. 

Baroness.  I  see.  your  object  plainly,  but  you  must  let 
her  see  it  likewise. 

Clergyman.  Then,  I  must  repeat  what  I  said  at  the  begin- 
ning of  tyiis,  conversation.  But  it  seems  you  had  not  the 
politeness  to  pay  attention. 

Lvuvsa.  What  is  the  use  of  attention  or  of  much  argu- 
ipieut?  Look  at  the  matter  in  any  light,  they  will  be  scan- 
dalous, stories,  in  some  shape  or  other,  and  nothing  else. 

Clergyman*  Must  I  repeat,  young  lady,  that  a  well- 
regulated  mind  only  perceives  scandal  when  it  reads  of 
wickedness,  arrogance,  a  desire  to  injure,  and  an  unwilling- 
ness, to  oblige  ?  and  from  such  spectacles  he  should  avert  his 
eyes.  He  finds  pleasure  in  the  narration  of  trifling  faults 
and  failings,  and  contemplates  with  satisfaction  those  points 
of  the  story  where  good  men  contend  with  themselves,  with 
their  desires  and  their  intentions,  where  silly  and  conceited 
mortals  are  rebuked,  corrected,  or  deceived,  and  where 
hopes,  wishes,  and  designs  are  disturbed,  interrupted,  and 
frustrated,  or  unexpectedly  fulfilled,  accomplished,  and  con- 
firmed. But,  on  those  scenes  where  accident  combines  with 
human  weakness  and  inefficiency,  he  dwells  with  the  greatest 
delight ;  and  none  of  the  heroes  whose  history  he  authenti- 
cates has  either  blame  to  apprehend  or  praise  to  expect  from 
him. 

Baroness.  Your  introduction  excites  our  wish  to  hear  a 
specimen.  We  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  our  lifetime 
in  one  circle,  and  have  never  experienced  any  thing  worthy 
to  find  a  place  in  such  a  collection; 

Clergyman.  Much  undoubtedly  depends1  upqp^the  ob- 
server, and  upon  the  peculiar  view  he  takes  of  occurrences. 
But  I  will  not  deny  that  I  have  made  large  extracts  from  old 


808  THE   RECREATIONS   Ot* 

books  and  traditions.  Perhaps  you  will  have  no  objection 
to  see  some  of  your  old  friends  with  new  faces.  And  this 
gives  me  a  privilege  of  which  I  must  not  be  deprived,  —  that 
none  of  my  tales  shall  be  doubted. 

Louisa.  But  we  are  not  to  be  prevented  from  recogniz- 
ing our  friends  and  acquaintances,  or,  if  we  please,  t'n/K 
expounding  the  enigma. 

Clergyman.  Certainly  not.  But  you  will  allow  me,  under 
such  circumstances,  to  produce  an  old  folio,  to  prove  that 
the  identical  occurrence  happened,  and  was  made  matter  of 
record,  some  centuries  ago.  And  I  must  be  permitted  to 
smile,  when  some  narration  is  pronounced  to  be  an  old  fable, 
though  it  may  have  taken  place  amongst  ourselves,  without 
our  being  able  to  recognize  the  characters. 

Louisa.  We  shall  never  begin.  Had  we  not  better  de- 
clare a  truce  for  this  evening ;  and  do  you  commence  a  story 
at  once,  by  way  of  specimen? 

Clergyman.  Permit  me,  in  this  instance,  to  be  guilty  of 
disobedience.  The  entertainment  is  intended  for  the  whole 
assembled  company.  We  must  not  deprive  them  of  it ;  and 
I  must  premise  beforehand,  that  whatever  I  have  to  say  pos- 
sesses no  value  in  itself.  But  when  my  audience,  after  some 
serious  occupation ,  wishes  for  a  brief  repose,  and,  already  sated 
with  good  things,  desires  the  addition  of  a  light  dessert,  then 
I  shall  be  ready,  and  only  hope  that  what  I  shall  provide 
may  not  prove  unpalatable. 

Baroness.  In  that  case,  we  had  better  postpone  the 
amusement  till  to-morrow. 

Louisa.  I  am  beyond  measure  curious  to  know  what  it 
will  be. 

Clergyman.  You  must  not  be  so,  young  lady  ;  for  great 
expectations  are  seldom  satisfied. 

That  same  evening,  after  dinner,  the  baroness  retired  early 
to  her  apartment ;  whilst  the  rest  of  the  company  remained 
together,  and  discussed  the  man)'  reports  which  were  current, 
and  the  various  incidents  which  had  happened.  As  is  gene- 
rally the  case  in  such  circumstances,  few  of  them  knew  what 
to  doubt  or  what  to  believe. 

The  old  clergyman  had  his  remedy  for  such  an  emergency. 
"  I  propose,"  said  he,  "  as  the  mps,t  convenient  plan,  that  we 
all  believe  implicitly  whatever  we  find,  pjeasant,  and  that  we 
reject,  without  ceremonj,  whatever  we :  find  unpleasant,  and 
that  we  admit  to  be  true  what  cajj  be  so. ' ' 

It  was  then  remarked  by  some  one,  that  men,  geperally 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  309 

acted  in  this  way ;  and,  after  some  desultory  conversation, 
they  commented  upon  that  strange  propensity  of  our  nature 
to  believe  in  the  marvellous.  They  talked  of  romances  and 
visions :  and,  when  the  old  clergyman  had  promised  at  a 
future  time  to  relate  some  interesting  anecdotes  upon  these 
subjects,  Louisa  exclaimed,  "It  will  be  extremely  good  of 
you,  and  you  will  merit  our  gratitude,  by  telling  us  a  story 
of  that  description  now  ;  for  we  are  all  in  the  proper  humor 
for  it :  we  shall  pay  attention  and  be  thankful.  Without 
needing  further  entreaties,  the  old  clergyman  commenced  at 
once,  as  follows  :  — 

"  During  my  residence  in  Naples,  an  event  happened  which 
attracted  universal  attention,  and  with  regard  to  which  pub- 
lic opinion  varied  exceedingly.  Some  persons  maintained 
that  the  circumstance  had  actually  occurred ;  whilst  others 
asserted,  that,  though  true  in  general,  it  was  founded  upon 
a  gross  deceit.  The  latter  class  of  persons  were  at  further 
variance  amongst  themselves :  they  could  not  agres  who 
was  the  deceiver.  Others  held  it  to  be  far  from  clear  that 
spiritual  natures  were  incapable  of  influencing  the  elements 
and  human  bodies,  and  maintained  that  we  were  not  justified 
in  pronouncing  every  marvellous  occurrence  to  be  a  fraud  or 
a  delusion.  But  now  to  the  facts  themselves. 

"  At  the  time  I  speak  of,  a  singer  named  Antonelli  was  the 
favorite  of  the  Neapolitan  public.  In  the  bloom  of  youth, 
beauty,  and  talents,  she  was  deficient  in  none  of  those  en- 
chantments by  which  women  can  allure  and  captivate,  and 
render  a  certain  class  of  their  favorites  happy.  She  was 
not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  love  and  flattery ;  but, 
naturally  temperate  and  sensible,  she  knew  how  to  enjoy 
the  delights  of  both,  without  losing  that  self-respect  which 
was  so  essential  to  her  happiness.  The  young,  the  distin- 
guished, and  the  rich,  flocked  to  her  in  crowds  ;  but  she 
admitted  few  to  her  friendship  :  and,  if  she  pursued  her  own 
inclination  in  the  choice  of  her  admirers,  she  evinced,  upon 
all  occasions,  so  firm  and  resolute  a  character,  that  she 
attached  every  person  to  her.  I  had  an  opportunity  of  ob- 
serving her  upon  one  occasion,  in  consequence  of  my  close 
intimacy  with  one  of  her  especial  favorites. 

"Some  years  had  elapsed :  her  friends  were  numerous; 
and  amongst  the  number  were  many  foolish,  simple,  and 
fickle  personages.  It  was  her  opinion  that  a  lover  who,  in 
a  certain  sense,  is  every  thing  to  woman,  generally  proves 
deficient  in  those  very  emergencies  when  she  most  needs  his 


310  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

assistance ;  as,  for  example,  in  the  difficulties  of  life,  in 
domestic  necessities,  and  upon  the  occurrence  of  sudden  dis- 
asters. In  such  times  she  maintained  that  his  own  self- 
love  often  proved  absolutely  prejudicial  to  his  mistress,  and 
his  advice  became  positively  dangerous. 

"  Her  former  attachments  were  insufficient  to  satisf}' her 
soul.  The  void  required  to  be  filled.  She  wished  for  a 
friend ;  and  scarcely  had  she  felt  this  want,  when  she  found, 
amongst  those  who  sought  her  favors,  a  youth  upon  whom 
she  bestowed  her  confidence,  of  which  in  every  respect  he 
seemed  worthy. 

"  He  was  a  native  of  Genoa,  and  had  taken  up  his  resi- 
dence in  Naples,  to  transact  the  mercantile  business  of  a  firm 
to  which  he  belonged.  His  natural  talents  had  been  im- 
proved by  a  most  excellent  education.  His  knowledge  was 
extensive,  his  mind  and  body  were  sound  and  active,  and  his 
general  conduct  might  serve  as  a  model ;  and  in  his  attention 
to  others  he  ever  seemed  forgetful  of  himself.  He  was  im- 
bued with  the  commercial  spirit  for  which  his  native  town 
was  distinguished.  All  his  speculations  were  upon  a  large 
scale.  His  condition,  however,  was  none  of  the  happiest. 
The  firm  had  entered  into  some  unfortunate  transactions, 
and  became  entangled  in  ruinous  law-suits.  Time  only  in- 
creased the  difficulties ;  and  the  anxiety  he  endured  gave 
him  an  air  of  melancholy,  which  was  not  unbecoming,  and 
made  Antonelli  still  more  desirous  of  his  acquaintance,  from 
the  idea  that  he  stood  in  need  of  a  friend. 

"Until  now  he  had  only  seen  Antonelli  in  public  :  but,  at 
his  first  request,  she  granted  him  access  to  her  house  ;  even 
urging  him  to  visit  her,  a  favor  which  he  did  not  fail  to  ac- 
cept. 

"  She  lost  no  time  in  communicating  to  him  her  confidence 
and  her  wishes.  He  was  no  less  surprised  than  delighted  at 
her  proposals.  She  implored  him  earnestly  to  be  her  friend, 
but  to  make  no  pretensions  to  the  privileges  of  a  lover.  She 
made  him  acquainted  with  some  embarrassments  in  which 
she  had  become  involved,  and  his  great  experience  enabled 
him  to  offer  advice  and  assistance  for  her  speedy  release. 
In  return  for  this  confidence,  he  unfolded  to  her  his  own 
situation :  and,  whilst  she  endeavored  to  cheer  and  console 
him,  many  new  plans  occurred  to  him,  which  he  had  not 
thought  of  before  ;  and  she  thus  appeared  to  be  his  adviser : 
and  a  reciprocal  friendship,  founded  on  the  highest  regard 
and  respect,  was  established  between  them. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  311 

*'  Unfortunately,  we  do  not  always  consider  the  practica- 
bility of  the  obligations  we  incur.  He  had  promised  to  be 
her  friend,  and  to  make  no  pretensions  to  the  privileges  of 
a  lover.  But  he  could  not  deny  that  those  who  came  to  see 
her  as  such  were  not  only  unwelcome  to,  but  were  detested 
by,  him ;  and  it  was  extremely  painful  to  him  when  she 
meant  to  amuse  him  with  the  description  of  their  various 
characters. 

"  It  soon  happened,  fortunately,  or  perhaps  unfortunately, 
that  her  heart  was  again  free.  This  was  a  source  of  ex- 
treme delight  to  our  young  friend,  who  lost  no  time  in 
entreating  that  the  vacant  place  might  be  allotted  to  him. 
With  some  reluctance  she  listened  to  his  proposals.  '  I 
fear,'  she  said,  '  that,  in  making  this  concession,  I  shall 
lose  my  friend.'  Her  anticipation  was  correct;  for  scarcely 
had  he  for  a  short  time  filled  this  double  character,  when  he 
found  her  temper  change.  As  her  friend  he  had  been  con- 
tent with  her  respect ;  as  a  lover  he  demanded  her  affection  ; 
and,  as  an  intelligent  and  accomplished  man,  constant  enter- 
tainment. But  this  was  more  than  Antonelli  expected.  She 
was  unwilling  to  make  an  entire  sacrifice  of  herself,  and  had 
no  wish  to  surrender  her  absolute  liberty  to  any  one.  She 
soon  adopted  ingenious  expedients  for  curtailing  the  length 
of  his  visits,  for  avoiding  his  presence,  and  for  making  him 
sensible  that  she  would  not  consent  to  forego  her  indepen- 
dence for  any  consideration. 

"This  discovery  was  to  him  a  source  of  the  greatest 
misery  ;  and,  unfortunately,  the  calamity  did  not  come  alone. 
His  domestic  affairs  became  more  and  more  involved  ;  and 
he  found  reason  for  reproaching  himself  with  having  always 
considered  his  income  as  inexhaustible,  and  with  having 
neglected  his  business  in  order  to  engage  in  foreign  travel, 
and  to  make  a  greater  figure  in  the  world  than  he  was  enti- 
tled to  do,  from  the  advantages  of  his  birth  and  income. 
The  law-suits,  .from  which  he  expected  so  much,  were  tardy 
and  expensive.  They  took  him  frequently  to  Palermo  ;  and, 
upon  the  occasion  of  his  last  journey  thither,  Antonelli 
adopted  means  to  change  the  nature  of  her  establishment, 
for  the  purpose  of  becoming  gradually  disengaged  from  him. 
On  his  return  he  found  her  in  another  residence,  at  some 
distance  from  his  ;  and  he  saw  that  the  Marquis  of  S.,  who 
at  that  time  exercised  great  influence  in  the  world  of  fashion, 
had  unr^perved  admission  to  her  house.  He  was  greatly  af- 
fected by  this  discovery,  which  brought  on  a  serious  illness. 


312  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

Upon  hearing  this  sad  intelligence,  Antonelli  hastened  to 
him,  attended  him ;  and,  as  she  was  fully  aware  that  his 
purse  was  but  scantily  supplied,  she  left  a  large  sum  of 
money,  which  supplied  his  necessities  for  a  considerable 
time. 

"  In  consequence  of  his  efforts  to  restrain  her  freedom,  he 
had  fallen  considerably  in  her  estimation.  As  her  attach- 
ment diminished,  her  suspicions  increased  :  and  she  at  leugth 
began  to  think  that  a  person  who  had  managed  his  own 
affairs  so  badly  was  not  entitled  to  a  high  character  for  good 
sense.  But  he  was  unaware  of  the  great  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  her  feelings  towards  him ;  and  he  attributed 
her  anxiety  for  his  recovery,  and  the  constancy  of  her  atten- 
tions which  induced  her  to  spend  whole  days  at  his  bedside, 
rather  to  her  love  for  him  than  to  compassion  for  his  suffer- 
ings ;  and  he  hoped,  upon  his  recovery,  to  find  himself  once 
more  re-instated  in  her  favor. 

"  But  he  was  grievously  mistaken.  With  his  restoration  to 
health  and  strength,  all  semblance  of  affection  disappeared  ; 
and  he  now  seemed  as  odious  in  her  eyes  as  he  had  formerly 
proved  agreeable.  In  addition  to  this,  his  temper  had  uncon- 
sciously become  soured  and  unbearable.  He  attributed  to 
others  all  the  blame  of  his  own  misfortunes,  and  justified 
himself  fully  from  their  evil  consequences.  He  considered 
himself  an  injured  and  persecuted  invalid,  and  looked  for 
a  complete  recompense  for  all  his  troubles  in  the  devoted 
affection  of  his  mistress. 

"  With  these  exalted  expectations  he  visited  Antonelli  im- 
mediately upon  his  recovery.  He  would  be  satisfied  with 
nothing  short  of  her  entire  affection,  the  dismissal  of  all 
her  other  friends  and  acquaintances,  her  complete  retirement 
from  the  stage,  and  her  devoting  herself  to  him  alone.  She 
demonstrated  the  impossibility  of  complying  with  these  re- 
quests, at  first  in  a  playful,  and  afterwards  in  a  more  serious, 
tone.  At  length  she  communicated  to  him -the  sad  intel- 
ligence that  their  connection  must  end.  He  left  her,  and 
never  returned. 

"  For  several  years  afterwards  he  lived  in  a  retired  manner, 
in  the  house  of  a  pious  old  lady,  who  had  a  small  independ- 
ence. At  this  period  he  gained  his  first  law-suit,  and  was 
soon  afterwards  successful  in  another ;  but  this  change  of 
fortune  came  too  late  :  his  health  was  undermined,  and  the 
joy  of  his  existence  had  vanished.  A  slight  accident  brought 
on  a  relapse,  and  the  physician  announced  to  him  his  ap- 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  313 

preaching  death.  He  heard  his  fate  without  a  murmur,  and 
merely  expressed  a  wish  to  see  his  beautiful  friend  once 
more.  He  sent  his  servant  to  her,  —  the  same  messenger 
who,  in  happier  days,  had  brought  him  many  a  delightful 
answer.  He  entreated  an  interview :  she  refused.  He 
sent  a  second  time,  and  implored  her  to  consent :  she  was 
still  inexorable.  At  length,  at  midnight,  he  sent  a  third 
time.  She  was  embarrassed,  and  communicated  her  situa- 
tion to  me  ;  as  I  had  been  invited,  along  with  the  marquis 
and  some  other  friends,  to  spend  the  evening  at  her  house. 
I  advised  her,  indeed  begged  of  her,  to  show  some  last  atten- 
tions to  her  friend.  She  appeared  undecided  at  first,  but, 
after  a  short  reflection,  made  up  her  mind,  and  dismissed  the 
servant  with  a  refusal.  He  did  not  return. 

"  After  supper  we  were  all  engaged  in  social  conversation, 
and  general  animation  and  hilarity  prevailed.  Suddenly,  a 
little  after  midnight,  a  piercing  shriek  of  bitter,  painful 
lamentation  was  heard.  We  rose  from  the  table,  looked  at 
each  other,  and  wondered  what  this  strange  event  could 
mean.  The  sound  seemed  to  come  from  the  middle  of  the 
room  in  which  we  were  assembled,  and  die  away  near  the 
walls.  The  marquis  rushed  to  the  window ;  whilst  we  en- 
deavored to  support  Antonelli,  who  had  fainted.  B}-  degrees 
she  regained  consciousness.  She  had  scarcely  opened  her 
eyes  when  the  jealous  and  passionate  marquis  loaded  her  with 
the  bitterest  reproaches.  '  If  you  choose  to  have  these 
mysterious  understandings  with  your  friends,'  said  he,  '  at 
least  let  them  be  of  a  less  fearful  nature.'  She  replied,  with 
her  wonted  presence  of  mind,  '  that,  as  she  had  always  en- 
joyed the  right  of  seeing  her  friends  whenever  she  pleased, 
she  would  scarcely  select  such  appalling  sounds  as  they  had 
just  heard,  to  indicate  approaching  happiness.' 

"  And,  in  truth,  the  cry  had  in  it  something  unspeakably  ap- 
palling. The  long-continued  scream  of  anguish  dwelt  upon 
our  ears,  and  made  our  very  limbs  tremble.  Antonelli  was 
pale,  motionless,  and  in  a  continual  faint.  We  sat  with  her 
for  half  the  night,  but  we  heard  nothing  further.  On  the 
following  night,  the  same  company,  who  had  met  together 
not  quite  so  cheerful  as  usual,  though  with  a  reasonable 
supply  of  courage,  about  the  same  hour  of  midnight  heard 
the  same  identical  loud  and  appalling  shriek. 

"  We  had,  in  the  mean  time,  wearied  our  imaginations  in 
framing  conjectures  as  to  the  cause  of  the  cry,  and  whence 
it  could  proceed.  But  why  should  I  weary  you  ?  Whenever 


314  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

Antonelli  supped  at  home,  at  the  self-same  hour  the  same 
shriek  was  heard,  sometimes  louder  and  sometimes  fainter. 
It  was  spoken  of  all  over  Naples.  The  mystery  excited 
universal  attention.  The  police  were  called  out.  Spies 
were  placed  in  every  direction,  to  detect  the  cause  of  the 
mystery.  To  persons  in  the  street,  the  shriek  appeared  to 
come  from  the  open  air ;  whilst  in  the  house  it  seemed  to 
proceed  from  the  very  room  in  which  Antonelli  was  sitting. 
When  she  supped  abroad  nothing  whatsoever  occurred  ;  but, 
as  often  as  she  supped  at  home,  the  horrid  shriek  was  in- 
variably heard. 

"  But  her  absence  from  home  did  not  upon  all  occasions 
protect  her  from  this  fearful  visitation.  Her  many  personal 
recommendations  secured  her  a  welcome  reception  in  the 
most  distinguished  families.  Being  a  pleasant  companion, 
she  was  everywhere  well  received ;  and  it  had  lately  become 
her  custom,  in  order  to  escape  the  fearful  visitation  we  have 
described,  to  spend  her  evenings  from  home. 

"  One  evening  a  gentleman  of  great  respectability,  owing 
to  his  age  and  position,  accompanied  her  to  her  house  in  his 
carriage.  When  she  was  taking  leave  of  him  at  the  door, 
a  loud  shriek  was  heard,  which  seemed  to  come  from  between 
them;  and  the  gentleman,  who,  like  many  others,  had  often 
heard  of  this  mysterious  occurrence,  was  lifted  into  his 
carriage  more  like  a  corpse  than  a  living  person. 

"Upon  another  occasion  a  young  singer,  to  whom  she  was 
partial,  drove  through  the  town  with  her  in  the  evening,  to 
visit  a  friend.  He  likewise  had  frequently  heard  of  the 
wonderful  phenomenon  we  have  related,  and,  with  the  spirits 
of  a  light-hearted  youth,  had  expressed  his  doubts  of  its 
reality.  They  spoke  of  the  circumstance.  '  I  wish  ex- 
tremely,' said  he,  'that  I  could  hear  the  voice  of  your 
invisible  companion  ;  call  him,  —  perhaps  he  will  come  :  we 
are  two,  and  need  not  fear  him.'  From  thoughtlessness, 
or  indifference  to  danger,  I  know  not  which,  she  called  the 
spirit :  and  instantly  the  piercing  shriek  issued,  as  it  were, 
from  the  middle  of  the  carriage ;  three  times  it  was  heard, 
and  then  died  away  gradually.  Arrived  at  the  house  of 
their  friend,  both  were  found,  insensible  in  the  carriage  : 
with  difficulty  they  recovered  their  senses  sufficiently  to  re- 
late what  had  happened. 

"  It  was  some  time  before  Autonelli  completely  recovered. 
Her  health  became  impaired  by  the  constantly  recurring 
fright  she  sustained :  but  when,  at  length,  her  fearful  visitor 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS-  315 

appeared  to  intend  that  she  should  enjo}*  some  repose,  she 
began  to  hope  for  a  complete  cessation  of  this  annoyance ; 
but  this  expectation  was  premature. 

"At  the  end  of  the  carnival,  accompanied  by  a  young 
female  acquaintance  and  a  servant,  she  set  out  upon  an 
excursion  of  pleasure.  It  was  her  intention  to  visit  a  friend 
in  the  country.  Night  came  on  before  she  reached  her 
destination  :  an  accident  happened  to  the  carriage  ;  and  she 
was  necessitated  to  take  refuge  in  a  small  country  inn,  and 
to  put  up  with  the  indifferent  accommodation  it  afforded. 

"  Her  companion  had  already  gone  to  bed  ;  and  the  servant, 
having  arranged  the  night-light,  was  about  to  retire,  when 
her  mistress  observed  jestingly,  '  I  think  we  are  at  the  end 
of  the  world :  it  is  a  dreadful  night ;  I  wonder  whether  he 
can  find  us  out  ? '  That  very  instant  the  shriek  «was  heard 
more  piercing  and  louder  than  ever.  Her  companion  was 
terrified  beyond  expression,  sprang  from  her  bed,  rushed 
down-stairs,  and  alarmed  the  whole  house.  No  one  that 
night  closed  an  eye.  It  was,  however,  the  last  time  the 
shriek  was  heard.  But  the  unwelcome  visitor  soon  found 
another  more  frightful  mode  of  indicating  his  presence. 

"  He  was  quiet  for  a  short  time,  when  one  evening,,  at  the 
accustomed  hour,  as  Antonelli  sat  with  her  companions  at 
table,  a  shot  from  a  gun,  or  from  a  heavily  loaded  pistol, 
was  fired  in  at  the  window.  Every  one  heard  the  report, 
every  one  saw  the  flash  ;  but,  upon  the  closest  inspection,  the 
window  was  found  not  to  have  sustained  the  slightest  injuiy. 
But  the  circumstance  seemed  to  every  one  of  the  most 
alarming  importance,  and  all  thought  that  an  attempt  had 
been  made  upon  Antonelli's  life.  The  police  were  called, 
and  the  neighboring  house  was  searched ;  but,  as  nothing 
suspicious  was  found,  guards  were  placed  in  it  next  day 
from  top  to  bottom.  Her  own  dwelling  was  carefully  exam- 
ined, and  spies  were  even  dispersed  about  the  streets. 

"  But  all  this  precaution  was  useless.  For  three  months  in 
succession,  at  the  very  same  hour,  the  shot  was  fired  through 
the  same  window,  without  the  Ilightest  injury  to  the  glass ; 
and,  what  was  especially  remarkable,  this  always  took  place 
exactly  one  hour  before  midnight :  although  in  Naples  time 
is  counted  after  the  Italian  fashion,  and  the  term  midnight 
is  never  used. 

"But  custom  at  length  reconciled  all  parties  to  this  oc- 
currence, as  it  had  done  to  the  previous  one ;  and  the  ghost 
began  to  lose  credit  by  reason  of  his  very  harmless  tricks. 


316  .  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

The  shot  ceased  to  alarm  the  company,  or  even  to  interrupt 
their  conversation. 

"  One  sultry  evening,  the  day  having  been  very  hot,  Anto- 
nelli  opened  the  window,  without  thinking  of  the  hour,  and 
went  with  the  marquis  out  upon  the  balcony.  They  had 
scarcely  been  in  the  air  a  couple  of  minutes  when  the  shot 
exploded  between  them,  and  droATe  them  back  into  the  house, 
where  for  some  time  they  lay  apparently  lifeless  on  the  floor. 
When  they  recovered,  each  felt  the  pain  of  a  violent  blow 
upon  the  cheek,  one  on  the  right  side,  the  other  on  the  left ; 
but,  as  iio  further  injury  was  apparent,  the  singularity  of  the 
circumstance  was  merely  the  occasion  of  a  few  jocular  obser- 
vations. 

"  From  this  time  the  shot  was  not  repeated  in  the  house  ; 
and  Antonelli  thought  she  was  at  last  completely  delivered 
from  her  invisible  tormentor,  when  one  evening,  upon  mak- 
ing a  little  excursion  with  a  friend,  she  was  terrified  beyond 
measure  by  a  most  unexpected  incident.  Her  way  lay 
through  the  Chiaja,  where  her  Genoese  friend  had  formerly 
lived.  It  was  bright  moonlight.  A  lady  who  sat  near  her 

asked,  '  Is  not  that  the  house  in  which  Signor died  ?  ' 

—  'As  well  as  I  can  recollect,  it  is  one  of  those  two,'  an- 
swered Antonelli.  The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  when 
the  shot  was  fired  from  one  of  the  two  houses,  and  pene- 
trated the  carriage.  The  driver  thought  he  was  wounded, 
and  drove  forward  with  all  possible  speed.  Arrived  at  their 
destination,  the  two  ladies  were  lifted  from  the  carriage,  as 
though  they  were  dead. 

"  But  this  was  the  last  alarm  of  that  kind.  The  unseen  foe 
now  changed  his  plan  ;  and  one  evening,  shortly  afterwards, 
a  loud  clapping  of  hands  was  heard  before  the  window.  As 
a  popular  singer  and  favorite  actress,  she  was  more  familiar 
with  sounds  of  this  description.  They  did  not  inspire  terror, 
and  might  have  proceeded,  perhaps,  from  one  of  her  numer- 
ous admirers.  She  paid  no  attention  to  them.  Her  friends, 
however,  were  more  watchful,  and  distributed  their  guards 
as  before.  They  continued  to  hear  the  noise,  but  saw  no- 
body, and  began  to  indulge  a  hope  that  the  unaccountable 
mystery  would  soon  completely  end. 

"After  a  short  time  it  became  changed  in  character,  and 
assumed  the  form  of  agreeable  sounds.  They  were  not, 
strictly  speaking,  melodious,  but  exceedingly  sweet  and 
pleasing.  To  an  accurate  observer  they  seemed  to  proceed 
from  the  corner  of  the  street,  to  float  about  in  the  empty 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  317 

space  before  Antonelli's  window,  and  there  to  die  away  in 
the  most  soft  and  delightful  manner.  It  seemed  as  if  some 
heavenly  spirit  wished,  by  means  of  a  beautiful  prelude,  to 
draw  attention  to  a  lovely  melody  which  he  designed  to  play. 
But  these  sounds  also  ceased  at  length,  and  were  heard  no 
more  after  this  wonderful  occurrence  had  lasted  for  about  a 
year  and  a  half." 

The  clergyman  pausing  for  a  few  moments,  the  entire 
company  began  to  express  their  opinions,  and  their  doubts 
about  the  truth  of  the  tale. 

The  narrator  answered  that  the  story  had  to  be  true,  if  it 
were  to  be  interesting,  as  a  manufactured  tale  could  possess 
but  little  merit.  Some  one  here  observed  that  he  thought  it 
singular  no  one  had  inquired  about  Autonelli's  'deceased 
friend,  or  the  circumstances  of  his  death ;  as  perhaps  some 
light  might  by  this  means  have  been  thrown  upon  the  whole 
affair. 

"But  this  was  done,"  replied  the  clergyman:  "I  was 
myself  curious  enough,  immediately  after  the  first  myste- 
rious occurrence,  to  go  to  the  house  under  the  pretext  of 
visiting  the  la'dy  who  had  attended  him  in  his  last  moments 
with  a  mother's  care.  She  informed  me  that  the  deceased 
had  been  passionately  attached  to  Antonelli ;  that,  during 
the  last  hours  of  his  existence,  he  had  spoken  of  nothing  but 
her ;  that  at  one  time  he  addressed  her  as  an  adorable  angel, 
and  at  another  as  little  better  than  a  demon. 

"When  his  sickness  became  desperate,  his  whole  thoughts 
were  fixed  on  seeing  her  once  more  before  his  death,  perhaps 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining  from  her  an  expression  of  affection, 
of  pity,  of  attachment,  or  of  love.  Her  unwillingness  to  see 
him  afflicted  him  exceedingly,  and  her  last  decisive  refusal 
hastened  his  death.  In  despair  he  cried  out,  '  No !  it  shall 
i:ot  avail  her.  She  avoids  me  ;  but,  after  my  death,  she  shall 
have  no  rest  from  me.'  In  a  paroxysm  of  this  kind  he  ex- 
pired :  and  only  too  late  do  we  learn,  that  the  dead  can  keep 
their  word  on  the  other  side  of  the  grave." 

The  company  began  once  more  to  express  their  opinions 
about  the  story.  At  length  Fritz  observed,  "I  have  a  sus- 
picion ;  but  I  shall  not  tell  it  till  I  have  thought  over  all  the 
circumstances  again,  and  put  my  combinations  to  the 
proof. ' ' 

Being  somewhat  strongly  pressed,  he  endeavored  to  avoid 
giving  an  answer,  by  requesting  that  he  might  be  allowed  to 
relate  an  anecdote,  which,  though  it  might  not  equal  the  pre- 


318  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

ceding  one  in  interest,  was  of  the  same  character,  inasmuch 
as  it  could  not  be  explained  with  any  certainty. 

"A  gallant  nobleman,"  he  commenced,  "who  inhabited 
an  ancient  castle,  and  was  the  father  of  a  large  family,  had 
taken  into  his  protection  an  orphan  girl,  who,  when  she  at- 
tained the  age  of  fourteen,  years,  was  emplo3'ed  in  attending 
the  mistress  of  the  house  in  duties  immediately  about  her 
person.  She  gave  complete  satisfaction,  and  her  whole  am- 
bition seemed  to  consist  in  a  wish  to  evince  her  gratitude  to 
her  benefactor  by  attention  and  fidelity.  She  possessed  vari- 
ous charms,  bath  of  mind  and  person,  and  was  not  without 
suitors.  But  none  of  these  proposals  seemed  likel}*  to  con- 
duce to  b,er  happiness,  and  the  girl  herself  did  not  show  the 
least  inclination  to  change  her  condition. 

"  On  a  sudden  it  happened,  that  as  she  went  through  the 
house,  intent  upon  her  various  duties,  she  heard  sounds  of 
knocking,  which  came  from  about  and  beneath  her.  At  first 
this  seemed  accidental ;  but  as  the  knocking  never  eeased,  and 
beat  almost  in  unison  with  her  footsteps,  she  became  alarmed, 
and  scarcely  left  the  room  of  her  mistress,  w^ere  alone  she 
found  she  could  enjoy  security. 

"  These  sounds  were  heard  by  every  one  who  accompanied 
her  or  who  stood  near  her.  At  first  the  sub j  jet  was  treated 
as  a  jest,  but  at  length  it  was  regarded;  in  a  more  serious 
light.  The  master  of  the  house,  who  was  of  a  cheerful  dis- 
position, now  took  the  matter  in  hand*  The  knocking  was 
never  heard  when  the  maiden  remained;  motionless,  and,  when 
sho  walked,  was  perceived,  not  so  evidently  when  she  put  her 
foot  to  the  ground  as  when  she  raised  it  to  advance  another 
step.  But  the  sounds  were  often  irregular,  and  they  were, 
observed  to  be  more  than  usually  loud  whe  i  the  maiden 
went  transversely  across  a  certain  large  apatment,  in  the 
castle. 

"  The  old  nobleman,  one  day  having  workmen  in  th#  house, 
caused  the  flooring  to  be  suddenly  raised  behind  the/',  maiden, 
when  the  knocking  sounds  were  at  the  loudest,1  Nothing, 
however,  was  found  but  a  couple  of  rats,  who,,  disturbed  by 
the  search,  gave  occasion  to  a  chase,  and  to.  considerable 
uproar  in  the  house. 

"Provoked  by  this,  circumstance  and. by  the  disappoint- 
ment, the  nobleman  determined  upon  adojjtiug  strong  meas- 
ures. He  took  down  his  large  whip .  fjrpni  the  wall,  and 
swore  that  he  would  flog  the  maiden  to  death  if  he  heard  the 
knocking  any  more.  From  this  time,  £or.tb  she  could  go 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  319 

through  the  house  without  the  slightest  molestation,  and  the 
knocking  was  never  heard  again." 

"Whereby,"  observed  Louisa  sagaciously,  "we  may  con- 
clude that  the  young  maiden  was  her  own  ghost,  and  practised 
this  joke,  and  played  the  fool  with  the  family,  to  indulge 
some  whim  of  her  own." 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Fritz;  "for  those  who  ascribed 
the  mysterious  occurrence  to  a  ghost,  believed  that  the 
maiden's  guardian  angel  wished  her  to  leave  the  house,  but 
was  anxious  also  to  protect  her  from  injury.  Others  took 
another  view,  and  maintained  that  one  of  the  girl's  lovers 
had  the  cleverness  to  occasion  these  sounds  in  order  to  drive 
her  out  of  the  housa  into  his  arms.  But,  be  this  as  it  may, 
the  poor  child  became  quite  ill  in  consequence,  and  was  re- 
duced to  a  melancholy  spectre  ;  though  she  had  formerly  been 
the  most  cheerful  and  lively  and  merry  person  in  the  whole 
establishment.  But  such  a  change  in  personal  appearance 
can  be  explained  in  more  ways  than  one. 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  observed  Fritz,  "  that  these  occurrences  are 
not  always  more  particularly  examined,  and  that,  in  judging, 
of  events  which  so  much  interest  us,  we  are  obliged  to- 
hesitate  between  different  appearances,  because  the  circum- 
stances under  which  they  happen  have  not  all  been  ob- 
served." 

"True,"  replied  the  old  clergyman;  "but  it  is  so,  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  make  this  examination  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  any  tl  ing  of  the  kind  happens,  and  to  take  every 
precaution  that  nothing  shall  escape  in  which  deceit  or.-fnautl 
may  be  concealed.  Can  we,  for  example,  detect  a  conjurer 
so  easily,  though  we  are  perfectly  conscious  that  he  i&  eleUidr- 
ing  us?  " 

He  had  scarcely  finished  this  observation,  when  a  Dpud'  im- 
port was  suddenly  hea:d  in  one  corner  of  the  a]|*uitanent. 
Every  one  leaped  up ;  whilst  Charles  sajd  jokingly.^  '•*•  Surely 
the  noise  does  not  proceed  from  some  dying  lover/*" 

He -would  will'n'ly  have  recalled  the  expression ;  for 
Louisa  became  suddenly  pale,  and  stammered  forfchi  that  she 
felt  apprehension  about  the  safety  of  her  intended*.. 

Fritz,  to  divert  her  attention,  took  up  the  light,,  and  went 
towards  a  reading-desk  which  stood  in  a  corner  o£'  the  apart- 
ment. The  semicircular  top  of  the  desk  was  split  through  > 
this,  then,  was  the  cause  of  the  report  they  hfuit  heard : 
but  it  immediately  occurred  to  them,  that  the  reading-desk 
was  of  the  best  workmanship,  and  had  occupied!  the  very 


320  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

same  spot  for  years  ;  and  therefore  they  were  all  astonished 
that  it  should  be  so  suddenly  split  asunder.  It  had  even 
been  praised  more  than  once  as  a  very  model  piece  of  furni- 
ture ;  and  how,  therefore,  could  this  accident  have  occurred, 
without  even  the  slightest  change  having  taken  place  in  the 
temperature  ? 

"  Quick  !  "  said  Charles,  "  let  us  settle  this  point  at  once 
by  examining  the  barometer."  The  quicksilver  maintained 
the  same  point  it  had  held  for  some  days.  And  even  the 
thermometer  had  not  fallen  more  than  could  be  reconciled 
with  the  difference  of  the  temperature  between  day  and 
night.  "It  is  a  pity  that  we  have  not  an  hygrometer  at 
hand,"  he  exclaimed,  "the  very  instrument  that  would  be 
most  serviceable  ! ' ' 

"  It  seems,"  said  the  old  clergyman,  "  that  the  most 
valuable  instrument  always  fails  when  we  are  engaged  in 
supernatural  inquiries."  They  were  interrupted  in  their  re- 
flections by  the  entry  of  a  servant,  who  announced  that  a 
great  fire  was  visible  in  the  heavens ;  though  no  one  could 
say  whether  it  were  raging  in  the  town  or  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

The  circumstances  we  have  just  related  made  the  whole 
party  more  susceptible  of  terror,  and  they  were  therefore 
much  agitated  by  the  news.  Fritz  hastened  up  to  the  bel- 
vedere of  the  house,  where  a  map  of  the  adjacent  country 
was  suspended,  by  means  of  which  he  was  enabled,  even  at 
night,  to  point  out  with  tolerable  accuracy  the  various  posi- 
tions of  the  surrounding  places.  The  rest  of  the  party 
remained  together,  not  without  some  fear  and  anxiety. 

Fritz  announced,  upon  his  return,  that  he  had  no  good 
news  to  tell.  "  The  fire  does  not  seem  to  be  in  the  town, 
but  upon  the  property  of  our  aunt.  I  am  well  acquainted," 
said  he,  "with  the  locality,  and  believe  I  am  not  mis- 
taken." Each  one  lamented  the  destruction  of  the  fine 
building,  and  calculated  the  loss.  "  A  strange  thought  has 
just  occurred  to  me,"  said  Fritz,  "which  may  quiet  our 
minds  as  to  the  mystery  of  the  reading-desk.  Consider  how 
long  it  is  since  we  heard  the  report."  They  counted  the 
minutes,  and  thought  it  had  occurred  about  half-past  twelve. 

"  Now,  you  will  probably  laugh,"  continued  Fritz,  "  when 
I  tell  you  my  conjecture.  You  know  that  our  mother,  a  good 
many  years  ago,  made  our  aunt  a  present  of  a  reading-desk, 
in  every  respect  similar  to  this  one.  They  were  both  fin- 
ished with  the  greatest  care,  by  the  same  workman,  at  the 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  321 

same  time,  and  cut  out  of  one  piece  of  wood.  Both  have 
lasted  well  until  now :  and  I  will  lay  a  wager,  that,  at  this 
very  instant,  the  second  reading-desk  is  actually  burning  at 
the  house  of  my  aunt ;  and  its  twin  brother  here  is  afflicted 
at  the  disaster.  To-morrow  I  will  set  out  and  investigate 
this  singular  fact  as  thoroughly  as  I  am  able." 

Whether  Frederick  really  entertained  the  above  opinion, 
or  whether  his  wish  to  tranquillize  his  sister  suggested  the 
idea,  we  are  unable  to  decide :  they,  however,  seized  the 
opportunity  to  speak  of  man}7  undeniable  sympathies,  and 
ended  by  discovering  that  a  sympathy  actually  existed 
between  pieces  of  timber  formed  from  one  tree,  and  pro- 
nounced it  probable  that  the  same  sympathy  subsisted 
between  pieces  of  work  completed  by  the  same  hand.  They 
agreed  that  these  things  resembled  natural  phenomena  fully 
as  much  as  other  things  which  were  often  adduced,  and  which, 
although  quite  evident,  are  incapable  of  explanation.  "  And, 
in  my  opinion,"  added  Charles,  "  every  phenomenon,  as  well 
as  every  fact,  is  peculiarly  interesting  for  its  own  sake.  Who- 
ever explains  it,  or  connects  it  with  other  circumstances,  only 
makes  a  jest  of  it,  or  deludes  us :  this  is  done,  for  example, 
by  the  natural  philosopher  and  the  historian.  But  an  uncon- 
nected fact  or  event  is  interesting,  not  because  it  is  expli- 
cable or  probable,  but  because  it  is  true.  When  at  midnight 
the  flames  consumed  your  aunt's  reading-desk,  the  extraor- 
dinary splitting  of  ours,  at  the  very  same  time,  was  a  palpable 
fact,  however  explicable  or  connected  with  other  tilings  it 
may  be." 

Though  night  was  by  this  time  far  advanced,  none  of  the 
company  felt  any  inclination  to  retire ;  and  Charles,  in  his 
turn,  asked  permission  to  tell  a  story,  which,  though  equally 
interesting,  might  seem  perhaps  more  natural  and  explicable 
than  tb,e  previous  ones.  "  Marshal  Bassompierre,"  he  said, 
"  relates  it  in  his  Memoirs ;  and  I  may  be  permitted  to  tell 
it  in  his  name. 

"  I  had  remarked  for  five  or  six  months,  that,  whenever  I 
crossed  the  little  bridge  (for  at  that  time  the  Pont  Neuf  had 
not  been  built),  a  very  handsome  shopkeeper,  over  the  door 
of  whose  establishment  was  painted  the  sign  of  '  The  Two 
Angels,'  always  saluted  me  with  a  low  and  respectful  bow, 
and  followed  me  with  her  eyes  as  far  as  she  could  see  me. 
This  conduct  surprised  me  extremely  ;  but  I  always  directed 
my  looks  to  her,  and  saluted  her  in  return.  I  rode  on  one 
occasion  from  Fontainebleau  to  Paris ;  and,  when  I  had  ar- 


322  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

rived  at  the  little  bridge,  she  appeared  at  the  door  of  her 
shop,  and  said,  '  Your  Servant,  sir ! '  I  returned  the  salute  ; 
and,  as  I  looked  back  from  time  to  time,  I  observed  that  she 
was,  as  usual,  leaning  forward,  to  keep  me  in  view  as  long 
as  possible. 

"  My  servant  was  following  with  a  postilion,  as  I  wished 
to  send  some  letters  back  to  some  ladies  in  Fontainebleau 
the  same  day.  I  ordered  the  servant  to  alight,  to  go  to  the 
pretty  shopkeeper,  and  to  tell  her  from  me,  that  I  had  no- 
ticed her  wish  to  speak  to  me,  and  that,  if  she  desired  my 
acquaintance,  I  would  visit  her  whenever  she  wished.  She 
answered  that  I  could  have  sent  her  no  more  delightful  news, 
that  she  would  meet  me  whenever  I  should  appoint,  on  con- 
dition that  she  might  be  allowed  to  pass  a  night  under  the 
same  roof  with  me.  I  accepted  the  proposal,  and  asked  the 
servant  to  find  a  place  where  I  might  appoint  an  assignation. 
He  said  he  would  lead  me  to  a  friend's  house,  but  advised 
me,  as  fever  was  then  very  prevalent,  to  provide  myself  with 
my  own  house-linen.  When  evening  came,  I  went  to  the 
appointed  house,  where  I  found  a  very  beautiful  young 
woman  awaiting  my  arrival.  She  was  attired  in  a  charming 
head-dress,  and  wore  the  finest  linens.  Her  tiny  feet  were 
adorned  with  slippers,  worked  in  gold  and  silk ;  and  her 
person  was  covered  with  a  loose  mantle  of  .the  softest  satin 
texture.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  never  saw  a  more  charming 
person.  In  the  morning  I  asked  when  I  could  see  her  again  ; 
as  it  was  then  Thursday  night,  and  it  was  not  my  intention 
to  leave  the  town  before  the  following  Sunday. 

"  She  replied  that  she  was  more  anxious  for  a  fresh  appoint- 
ment than  I  could  be,  but  that  it  would  be  impracticable 
unless  I  could  postpone  my  departure ;  as  I  could  only  see 
her  on  Sunda}*  night.  To  this  I  made  some  difficulty,  which 
caused  her  to  complain  that  I  was  tired  of  her,  and  therefore 
wished  to  set  out  on  Sunday;  'but,'  she  added,  'you  will 
soon  think  of  me  again,  and  will  be  glad  to  forfeit  a  day  in 
order  to  pass  a  night  with  me.' 

"I  was  easily  persuaded.  I  promised  to  stay  during 
Sunday,  and  to  meet  her  in  the  evening  at  the  same  place. 
She  answered  me  as  follows :  '  I  am  quite  aware,  that  on 
your  account  I  have  come  to  a  house  of  ill-repute  ;  but  I  have 
done  this  in  obedience  to  an  irresistible  desire  to  enjoy  your 
society.  But  so  great  an  indiscretion  cannot  be  repeated. 
I  shall  excite  the  jealousy  of  my  husband,  though  one  might 
risk  even  that  for  the  satisfaction  of  an  irresistible  passion. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  323 

For  your  sake  I  have  come  to  this  house,  which  has  been 
made  respectable  by  3* our  presence.  But,  if  you  desire  to  see 
me  again,  you  must  meet  me  at  the  residence  of  my  aunt.' 

"She  described  the  house  with  great  particularity,  and 
then  added,  '  I  shall  expect  you  at  ten  o'clock.  From  that 
time  till  midnight  the  door  shall  be  open.  You  will  find  a 
small  entrance,  through  which  you  must  advance ;  as  my 
aunt's  door  is  at  the  farther  end.  You  will  then  see  a  flight 
of  stairs  opposite  to  you.  They  lead  to  the  first  floor,  and 
there  I  shall  be  expecting  you  with  open  arms.' 

"  I  made  all  my  arrangements.  I  sent  away  my  things, 
dismissed  my  servants,  and  waited  impatiently  the  arrival  of 
Sunday  night,  when  I  was  to  see  my  charming  companion 
once  more.  At  ten  o'clock  I  was  at  the  appointed  place.  I 
found  the  door  she  had  described,  close  shut,  and  observed 
lights  in  the  house,  which  seemed  every  now  and  then  to 
blaze  up  into  a  flame.  I  knocked  impatiently  in  order  to 
announce  my  arrival,  and  was  immediately  saluted  by  the 
hoarse  voice  of  a  man  inquiring  what  I  wanted.  I  retired 
disappointed,  and  paced  restlessly  up  and  down  the  street. 
At  length  I  returned  to  the  house,  and  found  the  door  then 
wide  open.  I  hurried  through  the  passage,  and  ascended  the 
stairs.  Judge  of  my  astonishment  at  finding  the  room  occu- 
pied by  two  men,  who  were  employed  in  burning  a  mattress 
and  some  bed-clothes ;  while  I  saw  before  me  two  naked 
corpses  stretched  upon  the  floor.  I  hastened  away  in- 
stantly, and,  in  rushing  down  stairs,  knocked  against  two 
men  carrying  a  coffin,  who  asked  me  angrily  what  I  wanted. 
I  drew  my  sword  to  protect  myself,  and  finally  reached  my 
home  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  excitement.  I  swallowed 
half  a  dozen  glasses  of  wine,  as  a  preservative  against  the 
fever,  and  on  the  following  day  continued  my  journey. 

"•  All  the  inquiries  I  afterwards  instituted  to  discover  who 
this  woman  was  were  in  vain.  I  even  visited  the  shop 
where  '  The  Two  Angels '  were  painted,  but  the  new-comers 
could  not  inform  who  their  predecessors  had  been.  The 
chief  character  in  this  adventure  was  doubtless  a  person 
from  the  lower  orders ;  but  I  can  assure  you,  that,  but  for 
the  disagreeable  finale,  it  would  have  proved  one  of  the 
most  delightful  incidents  that  has  ever  happened  to  me,  and 
that  I  never  think  of  my  charming  heroine  without  feelings 
of  the  warmest  affection." 

Charles  observed,  upon  the  conclusion  of  the  anecdote, 
that  the  mystery  which  enveloped  the  story  was  not  easily 


324  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

explained.  The  woman  might  either  have  died  of  the  fever, 
or  have  kept  away  from  the  house  on  account  of  the  infec- 
tion. 

r  "  But,  if  she  were  alive,"  answered  Charles,  "  she  would 
have  met  her  lover  in  the  street ;  as  no  fear  could,  under  the 
circumstances,  have  kept  her  from  him.  I  fear,"  he  added, 
"  that  her  corpse  was  stretched  on  the  floor." 

"Oh!  no  more  of  this,"  said  Louisa:  "this  story  is  too 
frightful.  What  a  night  we  shall  pass,  if  we  retire  with  our 
imaginations  full  of  these  pictures !  " 

"I  recollect  an  anecdote,"  interrupted  Charles,  "which 
is  of  a  more  cheerful  description,  and  which  the  same  Bas- 
sompierre  relates  of  some  of  his  ancestors. 

"  A  very  beautiful  woman,  who  loved  one  of  her  relations 
passionately,  visited  him  every  Monday  at  his  country-house, 
where  they  spent  much  time  together ;  his  wife  believing  in 
the  mean  while  that  her  husband  was  engaged  on  a  hunting- 
party.  Two  years  uninterruptedly  had  passed  in  this  way, 
when,  the  wife's  suspicions  being  roused,  she  stole  one  morn- 
ing to  the  country-house,  and  found  her  husband  asleep  with 
his  companion.  Being  unwilling  or  afraid  to  disturb  them, 
she  untied  her  veil,  threw  it  over  the  feet  of  the  sleeping 
couple,  and  retired.  When  the  lady  awoke,  and  observed 
the  veil,  she  uttered  a  piercing  cry,  and  with  loud  lamenta- 
tions complained  that  she  would  now  never  be  able  to  see 
her  lover  again.  She  then  took  leave  of  him,  having  first 
given  him  three  presents,  — a  small  fruit-basket,  a  ring,  and 
a  goblet,  being  a  present  for  each  of  his  three  daughters, 
and  desired  him  to  take  great  care  of  them.  They  were  ac- 
cepted with  thanks,  and  the  children  of  these  three  daugh- 
ters believe  that  they  are  indebted  to  their  respective  gifts 
for  whatever  good  fortune  has  attended  them." 

"This  somewhat  resembles  the  story  of  the  beautiful 
Melusina,  and  such-like  fairy-tales,' '  observed  Louisa. 

"  But  there  is  just  such  a  tradition  in  our  family,"  said 
Frederick,  "and  we  have  possession  of  a  similar  talis- 
man." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  asked  Charles. 

"  That  is  a  secret,"  replied  the  former.  "  It  can  be  told 
to  no  one  but  the  eldest  son,  and  that  during  the  lifetime  of 
his  father ;  and  he  is  then  to  hold  the  charm." 

"  Are  you  the  present  possessor?  "  inquired  Louisa. 

"  I  have  told  too  much  alreadj',"  answered  Frederick, 
as  he  lighted  his  candle,  previous  to  retiring. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  325 

The  family  had  assembled  for  breakfast  according  to  their 
usual  custom,  and  the  baroness  afterwards  took  her  seat  at 
her  embroidery-frame.  After  a  short  silence  the  clergyman 
observed,  with  a  slight  smile,  "  It  is  seldom  indeed  that 
singers,  poets,  or  story-tellers,  who  enter  into  an  agreement 
to  amuse  a  company,  do  it  at  the  right  time  :  they  often  re-» 
quire  pressing,  when  they  should  begin  voluntarily ;  whilst, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  are  frequently  eager  and  urgent  to 
commence  at  a  time  when  the  entertainment  could  be  dis- 
pensed with.  I  hope,  however,  to  prove  an  exception  to 
this  custom ;  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  know  whether  it  will 
prove  agreeable  to  you  that  I  should  relate  a  story." 

"Particularly  so,"  answered  the  baroness;  "and  I  feel 
sure  that  I  express  the  general  opinion.  But,  if  it  is  your 
intention  to  relate  an  anecdote  as  a  specimen,  I  will  tell  you 
for  what  sort  of  story  I  have  no  inclination. 

"  I  take  no  pleasure  in  stories  which,  like  the  Arabian 
Nights,  connect  one  tale  with  another,  and  so  confound  the 
interest  of  both ;  where  the  narrator  finds  himself  compelled 
to  excite  our  attention  by  interruptions,  and,  instead  of  sat- 
isfying us  by  detailing  a  course  of  consecutive  adventures, 
seeks  to  attract  us  by  rare  and  often  unworthy  artifices.  I 
cannot  but  censure  the  attempt  of  converting  stories,  which 
should  possess  the  unity  of  a  poem,  into  unmeaning  puzzles, 
which  only  have  the  effect  of  vitiating  our  taste.  I  leave 
you  to  choose  your  own  subjects ;  but  I  hope  you  will  pay  a 
little  attention  to  the  style,  since  it  must  be  remembered  that 
we  are  members  of  good  society.  Commence  with  some 
narrative  in  which  but  few  persons  are  concerned  or  few 
events  described,  in  which  the  plot  is  good  and  natural, 
though  possessing  as  much  action  and  contrivance  as  is 
necessary,  which  shall  not  prove  dull,  nor  be  confined  to  one 
spot,  but  in  which  the  action  shall  not  progress  too  rapidly. 
Let  your  characters  be  pleasing,  and,  if  not  perfect,  at  least 
good,  —  not  extravagant,  but  interesting  and  amiable.  Let 
your  story  be  amusing  in  the  narration,  in  order,  that,  when 
concluded,  we  may  remember  it  with  pleasure." 

"  If  I  were  not  well  acquainted  with  you,  gracious  lady," 
said  the  clergyman,  "  I  should  be  of  opinion  that  it  is  your 
wish,  by  thus  explaining  how  much  you  require  of  me,  to 
bring  my  wares  into  disrepute  before  I  have  exposed  them 
for  sale.  I  see  how  difficult  it  will  be  to  reach  your  stand- 
ard of  excellence.  Even  now,"  he  continued,  after  a  short 
pause,  "  you  compel  me  to  postpone  the  tale  I  had  intended 


326  THE  RECREATIONS   OF 

to  relate  till  another  time ;  and  I  fear  I  shall  commit  a  mis- 
take in  extemporizing  an  anecdote  for  which  I  have  always 
felt  some  partiality  :  — 

"  In  a  seacoast  town  in  Italy  once  lived  a  merchant,  who 
from  his  youth  had  been  distinguished  for  activity  and 
industry.  He  was,  in  addition,  a  first-rate  sailor,  and  had 
amassed  considerable  wealth  by  trading  to  Alexandria,  where 
he  was  accustomed  to  purchase  or  exchange  merchandise, 
which  he  afterwards  either  brought  home  or  forwarded  to 
the  northern  parts  of  Europe.  His  fortune  increased  from 
year  to  year.  Business  was  his  greatest  pleasure,  and  he 
found  no  time  for  the  indulgence  of  extravagant  dissipation. 

"His  life  was  employed  in  active  pursuits  of  this  nature 
till  he  was  fifty  years  old ;  and  he  had  been,  during  all  this 
time,  a  total  stranger  to  those  social  pleasures  with  which 
luxurious  citizens  are  accustomed  to  diversify  their  lives. 
Even  the  charms  of  the  fair  sex  had  never  excited  his 
attention,  notwithstanding  the  attractions  of  his  country- 
women. His  knowledge  of  them  was  confined  to  their  love 
for  ornaments  and  jewellery,  a  taste  of  which  he  never 
failed  to  take  proper  advantage. 

"He  was  surprised,  therefore,  at  the  change  which  took 
place  in  his  disposition,  when,  after  a  long  voyage,  his  richly 
laden  ship  entered  the  port  of  his  native  town,  upon  the 
occurrence  of  a  great  festival  in  which  the  children  of  the 
place  took  a  prominent  part.  The  youths  and  maidens  had 
attended  the  church  in  their  gayest  attire,  and  had  joined  in 
the  sacred  processions.  They  afterwards  mingled  through 
the  town  in  separate  companies,  or  dispersed  through  the 
country  in  search  of  amusements ;  or  they  assembled  in  the 
large  square,  engaging  in  various  active  pursuits,  and  ex- 
hibiting feats  of  skill  and  dexterity,  for  which  small  prizes 
were  bestowed. 

"  The  merchant  was  much  pleased  with  all  he  saw.  But 
after  he  had  for  some  time  observed  the  happiness  of  the 
children,  and  the  delight  of  their  parents,  and  witnessed  so 
many  persons  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  present  bliss  and  the 
indulgence  of  the  fondest  hopes,  he  could  not  help  reflecting 
upon  the  wretchedness  of  his  own  condition.  His  own  soli- 
tary home  began  for  the  first  time  to  be  to  him  a  cause  of 
distress,  and  he  thus  gave  vent  to  his  melancholy  thoughts  :  — 

"  '  Unhappy  being  that  I  am  !  Why  are  my  eyes  opened 
so  late?  Why,  in  my  old  age,  do  I  first  become  acquainted 
with  those  blessings  which  alone  can  insure  the  happiness 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  327 

of  mankind?  What  toil  have  I  endured!  What  labors 
I  have  borne !  And  what  have  they  done  for  me  ?  'Tis 
true  my  cellars  are  filled  with  merchandise,  my  chests  with 
valuable  metals,  and  my  caskets  with  jewellery  and  precious 
stones ;  but  these  treasures  can  neither  console  nor  satisfy 
my  heart.  The  more  I  have  the  more  I  want :  one  coin 
requires  another,  and  one  diamond  wishes  for  its  fellow.  I 
am  not  the  master  of  my  riches :  they  command  me  in 
imperious  tone.  '  Go  and  get  more  ! '  they  exclaim.  Gold 
delights  in  gold,  and  jewels  in  their  fellows.  They  have 
ruled  me  all  my  life ;  and  now  I  find,  too  late,  that  they 
possess  no  real  value.  Now,  when  age  approaches,  I  begin 
for  the  first  time  to  reflect,  and  to  complain  that  I  enjoy 
none  of  the  treasures  I  possess,  and  that  no  one  will  enjoy 
them  after  me.  Have  I  ever  used  them  to  adorn  the  person 
of  a  beloved  wife,  to  provide  a  marriage-portion  for  a 
daughter?  Have  I  ever  by  their  means  enabled  a  son  to  win 
and  to  dower  the  maiden  of  his  heart?  Never!  None  of 
these  treasures  have  ever  enriched  me  or  mine  ;  and  what  I 
have  collected  with  so  much  toil  some  stranger,  after  my 
death,  will  thoughtlessly  dissipate. 

"  '  Oh !  with  what  different  feelings  will  those  happy 
parents  whom  I  see  around  me  assemble  their  children  this 
evening,  praise  their  address,  and  encourage  them  to  virtue  ! 
What  joy  have  I  beheld  beaming  from  their  eyes,  and  what 
hopes  from  the  happiness  of  their  beloved  offspring  !  And 
must  I  ever  be  a  stranger  to  hope  ?  Am  I  grown  gray  ?  Is 
it  not  enough  to  see  my  error  before  the  final  evening  of 
my  days  arrives  ?  No :  in  my  ripe  years  it  is  not  foolish  to 
dream  of  love.  I  will  enrich  a  fair  maiden  with  my  wealth, 
and  make  her  happy.  And,  should  my  house  ever  become 
blessed  with  children,  those  late  fruits  will  render  me  happy, 
instead  of  proving  a  plague  and  a  torment ;  as  the}'  often  do 
to  those  who  too  early  receive  such  gifts  from  Heaven.' 

"  Thus  communing  with  himself  he  silently  formed  his 
determination.  He  then  called  two  of  his  intimate  com- 
panions, and  opened  his  mind  to  them.  They  were  ever 
ready  to  aid  him  in  all  emergencies,  and  were  not  wanting 
upon  the  present  occasion.  They  hastened,  therefore,  into 
the  town,  to  make  inquiries  after  the  fairest  and  most  beau- 
tiful maidens ;  for  they  knew  their  master  was  a  man  who, 
whatever  goods  he  might  wish  to  acquire,  would  never  be 
satisfied  with  any  but  the  best.  He  was  himself  active, 
went  about,  inquired,  saw,  and  listened,  and  soon  found 


328  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

what  he  sought  in  the  person  of  a  young  maiden  about 
sixteen  years  of  age,  accomplished  and  well  educated.  Her 
person  and  disposition  pleased  him,  and  gave  him  every 
hope  of  happiness.  In  fact,  at  this  time  no  maiden  in  the 
whole  town  was  more  admired  for  her  beaut}7. 

"  After  a  short  delay,  during  which  the  most  perfect  inde- 
pendence of  his  intended  bride,  not  only  during  his  own 
life,  but  after  his  decease,  was  secured,  the  nuptial  ceremony 
was  performed  with  great  pomp  and  triumph ;  and  from  that 
day  the  merchant  felt  himself,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
in  actual  possession  and  enjoyment  of  his  riches.  His 
rarest  and  most  costly  silks  were  devoted  to  the  adornment 
of  his  bride,  and  his  diamonds  gleamed  more  brilliantly 
upon  the  neck  and  amid  the  tresses  of  his  love  than  they 
had  ever  shone  in  his  caskets ;  and  his  rings  acquired  an 
inexpressible  value  from  the  beauty  of  the  hand  by  which 
they  were  adorned.  And  thus  he  felt  that  he  was  not  only 
as  wealthy  as  before,  but  even  wealthier ;  and  all  he  pos- 
sessed acquired  a  new  value  from  being  shared  with  her  he 
loved.  The  happy  couple  spent  a  year  together  in  the  most 
perfect  contentment,  and  he  seemed  to  experience  a  real  joy 
in  having  exchanged  his  active  and  wandering  course  of  life, 
for  the  calm  content  of  domestic  bliss.  But  he  could  not  so 
easily  divest  himself  of  his  nature,  and  found  that  a  habit 
acquired  in  early  youth,  though  it  may  for  a  time  be  inter- 
rupted, can  never  be  completely  laid  aside. 

"After  some  time  the  sight  of  some  of  his  old  companions, 
when  they  had  safely  brought  their  ships  into  harbor  after 
a  long  and  perilous  voyage,  excited  anew  the  love  of  his 
former  pursuits  ;  and  he  began  now,  even  in  the  company  of 
his  bride,  to  experience  sensations  of  restlessness  and  dis- 
content. These  feelings  increased  daily,  and  were  gradually 
converted  into  so  intense  a  longing  for  his  old  course  of  life, 
that  at  last  he  became  positively  miserable ;  and  a  serious 
illness  was  the  result. 

' '  '  What  will  now  become  of  me  ? '  he  asked  himself. 
'  I  learn  too  late  the  folly  of  entering  in  old  age  upon  a 
new  system  of  life.  How  can  we  separate  ourselves  from 
our  thoughts  and  our  habits  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  Once  I 
possessed  the  perfect  freedom  which  a  bird  enjoys  in  open 
air,  and  now  I  am  imprisoned  in  a  dwelling  with  all  my 
wealth  and  jewels  and  my  beauteous  wife.  I  thought  thus 
to  win  contentment  and  enjoy  my  riches,  but  I  feel  that  I 
lose  every  thing  so  long  as  I  cannot  increase  my  stores. 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  329 

Unjustly  are  men  considered  fools  who  add  to  their  wealth 
by  ceaseless  activity,  for  activity  itself  is  happiness ;  and 
riches  themselves  are  valueless  in  comparison  with  the  de- 
light of  the  toil  by  which  they  are  acquired.  I  am  wretched 
from  idleness,  sick  from  inactivity  ;  and,  if  I  do  not  determine 
upon  some  other  course,  I  may  soon  bid  farewell  to  life. 

"  '  I  know,  however,  how  much  I  risk  in  separating  from 
a  young  and  lovely  wife.  I  know  how  unjust  it  is  to  win 
the  affections  of  a  charming  maiden,  and,  after  a  brief  pos- 
session, to  abandon  her  to  the  wearisome  society  of  her  own 
desires  and  emotions.  I  know,  even  now,  how  many  vain 
and  frivolous  youths  display  their  conceited  persons  before 
my  windows.  I  know  that  in  church,  and  in  the  public 
promenades,  they  seek  to  attract  the  notice  and  engage  the 
attention  of  my  wife.  What  may  not  take  place,  then,  if  I 
absent  myself?  Can  I  hope  for  the  intervention  of  some 
miracle  to  save  her  from  her  almost  inevitable  fate?  It  were 
vain  to  expect  that  at  her  age  and  with  her  warm  affections 
she  can  withstand  the  seductions  of  love.  If  I  depart,  I 
know  that  upon  my  return  I  shall  have  lost  the  attachment 
of  my  wife,  and  that  she  will  have  forfeited  her  fidelity,  and 
tarnished  the  honor  of  my  house.' 

"  These  reflections  and  doubts,  to  which  he  for  some  time 
had  become  a  prey,  embittered  his  condition  tenfold.  His 
wife,  no  less  than  his  relations  and  friends,  sympathized 
deeply  with  him,  without  being  able  to  comprehend  the  cause 
of  his  illness.  At  length  he  sought  relief  from  his  own 
thoughts,  and  thus  communed  with  himself :  '  Fool !  to  dis- 
tress myself  so  much  about  the  protection  of  a  wife  whom, 
if  my  illness  continues,  I  must  leave  behind  me  for  the 
enjoyment  of  another.  Is  it  not  better  to  preserve  my  life, 
even  though  in  the  effort  I  risk  the  loss  of  the  greatest  treas- 
ure a  woman  can  possess?  How  many  find  their  very  pres- 
ence ineffectual  to  preserve  this  treasure,  and  patiently 
endure  a  privation  they  cannot  prevent !  Why  cannot  you 
summon  up  courage  to  be  independent  of  so  precarious  a 
blessing,  since  upon  this  resolution  your  very  existence 
depends  ? ' 

"He  felt  invigorated  by  these  thoughts,  and  forthwith 
summoned  together  his  former  crew.  He  instructed  them 
to  charter  a  vessel  without  delay,  to  load  it,  and  hold 
themselves  ready  to  set  sail  with  the  first  favorable  wind. 
He  then  unburdened  himself  to  his  wife  in  the  following 
terms :  — 


330  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

"  '  Be  not  astonished  at  any  commotion  you  may  shortly 
observe  in  our  house,  but  conclude  thence  that  I  am  making 
preparations  for  a  journey.  Be  not  overcome  with  grief 
when  I  inform  you  that  I  am  once  more  bent  upon  a  sea- 
voyage.  The  love  I  bear  you  is  still  unchanged,  and  will 
doubtless  remain  so  during  my  life.  I  am  sensible  of  the 
bliss  I  have  enjoyed  in  your  society,  and  should  feel  it  still 
more  powerfully,  but  for  the  silent  censures  of  idleness  and 
inactivity  with  which  my  conscience  reproves  me.  My  old 
disposition  returns,  and  my  former  habits  are  still  alive. 
Let  me  once  more  visit  the  markets  of  Alexandria,  to  which 
I  shall  repair  with  the  greater  joy,  because  I  can  there  pro- 
cure for  you  the  richest  merchandise  and  most  valuable 
treasures.  I  leave  you  in  possession  of  all  my  fortune  and 
of  all  my  goods :  make  use  of  them  without  restraint,  and 
enjoy  yourself  in  the  company  of  your  relatives  and  friends. 
The  period  of  our  separation  will  pass  by,  and  we  shall  meet 
again  with  joy.' 

"  Dissolved  in  tears,  his  loving  wife  assured  him,  with  the 
most  tender  endearments,  that  during  his  absence  she  would 
never  be  able  to  enjoy  one  happy  moment,  and  entreated 
him,  since  she  wished  neither  to  control  nor  to  detain  him, 
that  she  might,  at  least,  share  his  affectionate  thoughts 
during  the  sad  time  of  their  separation. 

"He  then  gave  some  general  directions  on  business  and 
household  matters,  and  added,  after  a  short  pause,  '  I  have 
something  to  say,  which  lies  like  a  burden  upon  my  heart ; 
and  you  must  permit  me  to  utter  it :  I  only  implore  you 
earnestly  not  to  misinterpret  my  meaning,  but  in  my  anxiety 
for  you  to  discern  my  love.' 

"  '  I  can  guess  your  thoughts,'  interrupted  his  wife  :  '  you 
are  suspicious  of  me,  I  know  ;  and,  after  the  fashion  of  men, 
you  always  rail  at  the  universal  weakness  of  our  sex.  I  am, 
it  is  true,  young,  and  of  a  cheerful  disposition  ;  and  you  fear 
lest,  in  your  absence,  I  be  found  inconstant  and  unfaithful. 
I  do  not  find  fault  with  your  suspicions ;  it  is  the  habit  of 
your  sex :  but  if  I  know  my  own  heart,  I  may  assure  you 
that  I  am  not  so  susceptible  of  impressions  as  to  be  induced 
lightly  to  stray  from  the  paths  of  love  and  duty,  through 
which  I  have  hitherto  journeyed.  Fear  not :  you  shall  find 
your  wife  as  true  and  faithful  on  your  return  as  you  have 
ever  found  her  hitherto,  when  you  have  come  to  her  arms  at 
evening  after  a  short  absence.' 

"  '  I  believe  the  truth  of  the  sentiments  you  utter,'  added 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  331 

the  husband,  '  and  I  beseech  you  to  be  constant  to  them. 
But  let  us  conceive  the  possibility  of  the  worst.  Why  should 
we  shrink  from  it?  You  know  yourself  how  the  beauty  of 
your  person  attracts  the  admiration  of  all  our  young  fellow- 
citizens.  During  my  absence  they  will  be  more  attentive  to 
you  than  ever.  They  will  redouble  their  efforts  to  attract 
and  please  you.  The  image  of  your  husband  will  not  prove 
as  effective  as  his  presence  in  banishing  them  from  my  doors 
and  from  your  heart.  I  know  you  are  a  noble  being ;  but 
the  blandishments  of  love  are  powerful,  and  oftentimes  over- 
come the  firmest  resolutions.  Interrupt  me  not.  Your  very 
thoughts  of  me  during  my  absence  may  inflame  your  pas- 
sions. I  may,  for  some  time,  continue  to  be  the  object  of 
your  dearest  wishes  ;  but  who  can  foretell  what  opportunities 
may  occur,  and  allow  a  stranger  to  enjoy  those  privileges 
which  were  destined  for  me  ?  Be  not  impatient,  I  beseech 
you,  but  hear  me  out. 

"  '  Should  that  time  arrive,  the  possibility  of  which  you 
deny,  and  which  I  am  by  no  means  anxious  to  hasten,  in 
which  you  feel  that  you  need  society,  and  can  no  longer  de- 
fer the  requirements  of  love,  then  make  me  one  promise. 
Permit  no  thoughtless  youth  to  supplant  me,  whatever  may 
be  the  attractions  of  his  person ;  for  such  lovers  are  more 
dangerous  to  the  honor  than  to  the  virtue  of  a  woman.  In- 
cited rather  by  vanity  than  by  love,  they  seek  the  general 
favors  of  the  sex,  and  are  ever  ready  to  transfer  their  transi- 
tory affections.  If  you  wish  for  the  society  of  a  friend,  look 
out  for  one  who  is  worthy  of  the  name,  whose  modesty  and 
discretion  understands  the  art  of  exalting  the  joys  of  love  by 
the  virtue  of  secrecy.' 

"  His  beautiful  wife  could  suppress  her  agony  no  longer, 
and  the  tears  which  she  had  till  now  restrained  flowed  in  co- 
pious torrents  from  her  eyes.  '  Whatever  may  be  your 
opinion  of  me,'  she  cried,  after  a  passionate  embrace,  l  noth- 
ing can  be  at  this  hour  farther  from  my  thoughts  than  the 
crime  you  seem  to  consider,  as  it  were,  inevitable.  If  such 
an  idea  ever  suggests  itself  to  my  imagination,  may  the  earth 
in  that  instant  open,  and  swallow  me  up,  and  forever  vanish 
all  hope  of  that  joy  which  promises  a  blessed  immortality ! 
Banish  this  mistrust  from  your  bosom,  and  let  me  enjoy  the  full 
and  delightful  hope  of  seeing  you  again  return  to  these  arms.' 

"  Having  left  untried  no  effort  to  comfort  and  console  his 
wife,  he  set  sail  the  next  day.  His  voyage  was  prosperous, 
and  he  soon  arrived  in  Alexandria. 


332  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

"In  the  mean  time  our  heroine  lived  in  the  tranquil  en- 
joyment of  a  large  fortune,  in  possession  of  every  luxury ; 
though,  with  the  exception  of  her  relatives  and  immediate 
friends,  no  person  was  admitted  to  her  society.  The  busi- 
ness of  her  absent  husband  was  discharged  by  trustworthy 
servants  ;  and  she  inhabited  a  large  mansion,  in  whose  splen- 
did rooms  she  was  able  to  enjoy  the  daily  pleasure  of  recall- 
ing the  remembrance  of  his  love. 

"  But,  notwithstanding  her  quiet  and  retired  mode  of  life, 
the  young  gallants  of  the  town  did  not  long  remain  inactive. 
They  frequented  the  street,  passed  incessantly  before  her 
windows,  and  in  the  evening  sought  to  attract  her  attention 
by  means  of  music  and  serenades.  The  pretty  prisoner, 
although  she  at  first  found  these  attentions  troublesome  and 
annoying,  gradually  became  reconciled  to  the  vexation  ;  and, 
when  the  long  evenings  arrived,  she  began  to  consider  the 
serenades  in  the  light  of  an  agreeable  entertainment,  and 
could  scarcely  suppress  an  occasional  sigh,  which,  strictly 
speaking,  belonged  to  her  absent  husband. 

u  But  her  unknown  admirers,  instead  of  gradually  weary- 
ing in  their  attentions,  as  she  had  once  expected,  became 
more  assiduous  in  their  devotion.  She  began,  at  last,  to 
recognize  the  oft-repeated  instruments  and  voices,  to  grow 
familiar  with  the  melodies,  and  to  feel  curious  to  know  the 
names  of  her  most  constant  serenaders.  She  might  inno- 
cently indulge  so  harmless  a  curiosity.  She  now  peeped  oc- 
casionally through  her  curtains  and  half-closed  shutters,  to 
notice  the  pedestrians,  and  to  observe  more  particularly  the 
youths  whose  eyes  were  constantly  directed  towards  her 
windows.  They  were  invariably  handsome,  and  fashionably 
dressed ;  but  their  manner  and  whole  deportment  were  un- 
mistakably marked  by  frivolity  and  vanity.  They  seemed 
more  desirous  of  making  themselves  remarkable  by  directing 
their  attention  to  the  house  of  so  beautiful  a  woman,  than  of 
displaying  towards  her  a  feeling  of  peculiar  respect. 

"  'Really,'  the  lady  would  sometimes  say  to  herself  in  a 
tone  of  raillery,  '  really  my  husband  showed  a  deal  of  pene- 
tration. The  condition  under  which  he  allowed  me  to  enjoy 
the  privilege  of  a  lover  excludes  all  those  who  care  in  the 
least  for  me,  or  to  whom  I  am  likely  to  take  a  fancy.  He 
seems  to  have  well  understood  that  prudence,  modesty,  and 
silence  are  qualities  which  belong  to  demure  old  age,  when 
men  can  value  the  understanding,  but  are  incapable  of 
awakening  the  fancy  or  exciting  the  desires.  I  am  pretty 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  333 

sure,  at  least,  that,  amongst  the  youths  who  lay  perpetual 
siege  to  my  mansion,  there  is  not  one  entitled  to  my  confi- 
dence ;  and  those  who  might  lay  some  claim  to  that  virtue 
fall  lamentably  short  in  other  attractions.' 

"  Supported  by  these  reflections,  she  allowed  herself  to 
take  daily  more  and  more  pleasure  in  the  music  and  in  the 
attentions  of  her  young  admirers  ;  till  at  length,  unperceived 
b.y  herself,  there  gradually  sprung  up  in  her  bosom  a  rest- 
less desire,  which  she  struggled  to  resist  when  it  was 
already  too  late.  Solitude  and  idleness,  combined  with  com- 
fort and  luxur}7,  gave  birth  to  an  unruly  passion  long  before 
its  thoughtless  victim  had  any  suspicion  of  her  danger. 

"  Amongst  the  numerous  endowments  of  her  husband,  she 
now  saw  ample  reason  to  admire  his  profound  knowledge  of 
the  world  and  of  mankind,  and  his  thorough  acquaintance 
with  woman's  heart.  She  now  perceived  that  that  had  oc- 
curred, the  possibility  of  which  she  had  formerly  so  strenu- 
ously denied,  and  acknowledged  his  wisdom  in  preaching  the 
necessity  of  prudence  and  caution.  But  what  could  these 
virtues  avail,  where  pitiless  chance  seemed  to  be  in  con- 
spiracy with  her  own  unaccountable  passions  ?  How  could 
she  select  one  from  a  crowd  of  strangers  ?  and  was  she  per- 
mitted, in  case  of  disappointment,  to  make  a  second  choice  ? 

"  Innumerable  thoughts  of  this  nature  increased  the  per- 
plexity of  our  solitary  heroine.  In  vain  she  sought  recrea- 
tion, and  tried  to  forget  herself.  Her  mind  was  perpetually 
excited  by  agreeable  objects,  and  her  imagination  thus  be- 
came impressed  with  the  most  delightful  pictures  of  fancied 
happiness. 

"  In  this  state  of  mind,  she  was  informed  one  day  by  a  re- 
lation, amongst  other  pieces  of  news,  that  a  young  lawyer 
who  had  just  finished  his  studies  at  Bologna  had  lately  ar- 
rived in  his  native  town.  His  talents  were  the  topic  of  gen- 
eral admiration  and  encomium.  His  universal  knowledge 
was  accompanied  by  a  modesty  and  reserve  very  uncommon 
in  youth,  and  his  personal  attractions  were  of  a  high  order. 
In  his  office  of  procurator  he  had  already  won,  not  only  the 
confidence  of  the  public,  but  the  respect  of  the  judges.  He 
had  daily  business  to  transact  at  the  court-house,  so  great 
was  the  increase  of  his  professional  practice. 

"Our  heroine  could  not  hear  the  talents  of  this  youth  so 
generally  extolled,  without  feeling  a  wish  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  him,  accompanied  by  a  secret  hope  that  he 
might  prove  a  person  upon  whom,  in  conformity  with  the 


334  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

permission  of  her  husband,  she  might  bestow  her  heart.  She 
soon  learned  that  he  passed  her  dwelling  daily,  on  his  way  to 
the  court-house  ;  and  she  carefully  watched  for  the  hour  when 
the  lawyers  were  accustomed  to  assemble  for  the  discharge 
of  business.  With  beating  heart  she  at  length  saw  him 
pass  ;  and  if  his  handsome  figure  and  youthful  attractions,  on 
the  one  hand,  excited  her  admiration,  his  apparent  reserve 
and  modesty,  on  the  other,  gave  her  much  reason  for  doubt 
and  anxiety.  For  several  days  she  watched  him  silently, 
till  at  length  she  was  no  longer  able  to  resist  her  desire  to 
attract  his  attention.  She  dressed  with  care,  went  out  upon 
the  balcony,  and  marked  his  approach  with  feelings  of  sus- 
pense. But  she  grew  troubled,  and,  indeed,  felt  ashamed, 
when  she  saw  him  pass,  in  contemplative  mood,  with 
thoughtful  steps  and  downcast  eyes,  pursuing  his  quiet  way, 
without  deigning  to  bestow  the  slightest  notice  upon  her. 
Vainly  did  she  endeavor  thus  to  win  his  attention  for  several 
successive  days.  In  the  same  undeviating  course  he  contin- 
ued to  pass  by,  without  raising  his  eyes,  or  looking  to  the 
right  or  to  the  left.  But,  the  more  she  observed  him,  the 
more  did  he  appear  to  be  the  very  one  she  needed.  Her  wish 
to  know  him  now  grew  stronger,  and  at  length  became  ir- 
resistible. What !  she  thought  within  herself :  when  my 
noble,  sensible  husband  actually  foresaw  the  extremity  to 
which  his  absence  would  reduce  me,  when  his  keen  percep- 
tion knew  that  I  could  not  live  without  a  friend,  must  I 
droop  and  pine  away  at  the  very  time  when  fortune  provides 
me  with  one  whom  not  only  my  own  heart,  but  even  my 
husband,  would  choose,  and  in  whose  society  I  should  be 
able  to  enjoy  the  delights  of  love  in  inviolable  secrecy  ?  Fool 
should  I  be,  to  miss  such  an  opportunity  ;  fool,  to  resist  the 
powerful  impulses  of  love  ! 

"  With  such  reflections  did  she  endeavor  to  decide  upon 
some  fixed  course,  and  she  did  not  long  remain  a  prey  to  un- 
certainty. It  happened  with  her,  as  it  usually  does  with  every 
one  who  is  conquered  by  a  passion,  that  she  looked  without 
apprehension  upon  all  such  trifling  objections  as  shame,  fear, 
timidity,  and  duty,  and  came  at  length  to  the  bold  resolution 
of  sending  her  servant-maid  to  the  young  lawyer  at  any  risk, 
and  inviting  him  to  visit  her. 

"  The  servant  found  him  in  the  company  of  several  friends, 
and  delivered  her  message  punctually  in  the  terms  in  which 
she  had  been  instructed.  The  procurator  was  not  at  all  sur- 
prised at  the  invitation.  He  had  known  the  merchant  pro- 


THE  GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  335 

viously,  was  aware  of  his  absence  at  present,  and  presumed 
that  the  lady  required  the  aid  of  his  professional  services 
about  some  important  matter  of  business.  He  promised  the 
servant,  therefore,  that  he  would  wait  upon  her  mistress 
without  delay.  The  latter  heard  with  unspeakable  joy,  that 
she  would  soon  be  allowed  an  opportunity  of  seeing  and  speak- 
ing to  her  beloved.  She  prepared  carefully  for  his  recep- 
tion, and  had  her  rooms  arranged  with  the  utmost  elegance. 
Orange-leaves  and  flowers  were  strewn  around  in  profusion, 
and  the  most  costly  furniture  was  displayed  for  the  occasion. 
And  thus  the  brief  intervening  time  hastened  by,  which  would 
otherwise  have  been  unbearable. 

"  Who  can  describe  the  emotion  with  which  she  witnessed 
his  arrival,  or  her  agitation  upon  inviting  him  to  take  a  seat  at 
her  side  ?  She  hesitated  how  to  address  him  now  that  he  had 
arrived,  and  found  a  difficulty  in  remembering  what  she  had 
to  say.  He  sat  still  and  silent.  At  length  she  took  courage 
and  addressed  him,  not  without  some  visible  perplexity. 

"  '  I  understand,  sir,  that  you  are  but  lately  returned  to 
your  native  city  ;  and  I  learn  that  you  are  universally  admired 
as  a  talented  and  incomparable  man.  I  am  ready  to  bestow 
my  utmost  confidence  upon  you,  in  a  matter  of  extraordi- 
nary importance,  but  which,  upon  reflection,  would  seem 
adapted  rather  for  the  ear  of  the  confessor  than  that  of  the 
lawyer.  I  have  been  for  some  years  married  to  a  husband 
who  is  both  rich  and  honorable,  and  who,  as  long  as  we  have 
lived  together,  has  never  ceased  to  tenderly  love  me,  and  of 
whom  I  should  not  have  a  single  word  of  complaint  to  utter, 
if  an  irresistible  desire  for  travel  and  trade  had  not  torn  him, 
for  some  time,  from  my  arms. 

"  '  Being  a  sensible  and  just  man,  he  no  doubt  felt  con- 
scious of  the  injury  his  absence  must  necessarily  inflict  upon 
me.  He  knew  that  a  young  wife  cannot  be  preserved  like 
jewellery  and  pearls.  He  knew  that  she  resembles  a  garden, 
full  of  the  choicest  fruits,  which  would  be  lost,  not  only  to 
him,  but  to  every  one  else,  if  the  door  were  kept  locked  for 
years.  For  this  reason,  he  addressed  me  in  serious  but 
friendly  tones  before  his  departure,  and  assured  me,  that  he 
knew  I  should  not  be  able  to  live  without  the  society  of  a 
friend,  and  therefore  not  only  permitted,  but  made  me  prom- 
ise, that  I  would,  in  a  free  and  unrestrained  manner,  follow 
the  inclination  which  I  should  soon  find  springing  up  within 
my  heart.' 

"  She  paused  for  a  moment;  but  an  eloquent  look,  which 


336  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

the  young  lawyer  directed  towards  her,  encouraged  her  to 
proceed. 

•'  '  One  only  condition  was  imposed  upon  me  by  my  indul- 
gent husband.  He  recommended  me  to  use  the  most  ex- 
treme caution,  and  impressed  upon  me  strongly  the  necessity 
of  choosing  a  stead}',  prudent,  silent,  and  confidential  friend. 
But  you  will  excuse  my  continuing,  —  excuse  the  embar- 
rassment with  which  I  must  confess  how  I  have  been  at- 
tracted by  your  numerous  accomplishments,  and  divine  from 
the  confidence  I  have  reposed  in  you  the  nature  of  my  hopes 
and  wishes.' 

"  The  worthy  young  lawyer  was  silent  for  a  short  time,  and 
then  replied,  in  a  thoughtful  tone,  '  I  am  deeply  indebted 
for  the  high  mark  of  confidence  with  which  you  both  honor 
and  delight  me.  I  wish  to  convince  you  that  I  am  not  un- 
worthy of  your  favor.  But  let  me  first  answer  you  in  a  pro- 
fessional capacity :  and  I  must  confess  my  admiration  for 
your  husband,  who  so  clearly  saw  the  nature  of  the  injustice 
he  committed  against  you  ;  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  this, 
—  that  a  husband  who  leaves  his  young  wife,  in  order  to 
visit  distant  countries,  must  be  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  man 
who  relinquishes  a  valuable  treasure,  to  which,  by  his  own 
conduct,  he  abandons  all  manner  of  claim.  And  as  the  first 
finder  may  then  lawfully  take  possession,  so  I  hold  it  to  be 
natural  and  just,  that  a  young  woman,  under  the  circum- 
stances you  describe,  should  bestow  her  affections  and  her- 
self, without  scruple,  upon  any  friend  who  may  prove  worthy 
of  her  confidence. 

'•  '  But  particularly  when  the  husband,  as  in  this  case,  con- 
scious of  the  injustice  he  himself  commits,  expressly  allows 
his  forsaken  wife  a  privilege,  of  which  he  could  not  deprive 
her,  it  must  be  clear  that  he  can  suffer  no  wrong  from  an 
action  to  which  he  has  given  his  own  consent. 

-'  '  Wherefore  if  you,'  continued  the  young  lawyer,  with 
quite  a  different  look  and  the  most  lively  emphasis,  and  the 
most  affectionate  pressure  of  the  hand,  ;  if  3*011  select  me  for 
your  servant,  you  enrich  me  with  a  happiness,  of  which,  till 
now,  I  could  have  formed  no  conception.  And  be  assured,' 
he  added,  while  at  the  same  time  he  warmly  kissed  her  hand, 
'  that  3*ou  could  not  have  found  a  more  true,  loving,  pru- 
dent, and  devoted  servant.' 

"  This  declaration  tranquillized  the  agitated  feelings  of  our 
tender  heroine.  She  at  once  expressed  her  love  without 
reserve.  She  pressed  his  hand,  drew  him  nearer  to  her,  and 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  337 

reclined  her  head  upon  his  shoulder.  They  had  remained  but 
a  short  time  in  this  position,  when  he  tried  to  disengage  him- 
self gently,  and  expressed  himself  thus,  not  without  emotion  : 
4  Did  ever  happy  mortal  find  himself  in  such  embarrass- 
ment? I  am  compelled  to  leave  you.  and  to  do  violence  to 
myself  in  the  very  moment  when  I  might  surrender  myself 
to  the  most  divine  enchantment.  I  cannot  now  partake  the 
bliss  which  is  prepared  for  me,  and  I  earnestly  pray  that  a 
temporary  postponement  may  not  altogether  frustrate  my 
fondest  hopes.' 

"  She  inquired  hastily  the  cause  of  this  strange  speech. 

"  k  When  I  was  in  Bologna,'  he  replied,  '  and  had  just 
completed  my  studies,  preparing  to  enter  upon  the  practice 
of  my  profession,  I  was  seized  with  a  dangerous  illness,  from 
which  it  appeared,  that,  even  if  I  should  escape  with  my  life, 
my  bodily  and  mental  faculties  must  sustain  irreparable  in- 
jury. Reduced  to  despair,  and  tortured  by  the  pangs  of 
disease,  I  made  a  solemn  vow  to  the  Virgin,  that,  should  I 
recover,  I  would  persist  for  one  whole  year  in  practising  the 
strictest  fast  and  abstinence  from  enjoyment  of  every  de- 
scription. For  ten  months  I  have  already  adhered  to  my 
vow  :  and,  considering  the  wonderful  favor  I  have  enjoyed, 
the  time  has  not  passed  wearily ;  and  I  have  not  found  it 
difficult  to  abstain  from  many  accustomed  pleasures.  But 
the  two  months  which  still  remain  will  now  seem  an 
eternity ;  since,  till  their  expiration,  I  am  forbidden  to 
partake  a  happiness  whose  delights  are  inconceivable. 
And,  though  you  may  think  the  time  long,  do  not,  I  beseech 
you,  withdraw  the  favor  you  have  so  bountifully  bestowed 
upon  me.' 

"•  Not  much  consoled  by  this  announcement,  she  felt  a 
little  more  encouraged  when  her  friend  added,  after  a  f cv,- 
minutes'  reflection,  '  I  scarcely  dare  to  make  a  proposal,  and 
suggest  a  plan,  which  may,  perhaps,  release  me  a  little 
earlier  from  my  vow.  If  I  could  01113*  find  some  one  as  firm 
and  resolute  as  myself  in  keeping  a  promise,  and  who  would 
divide  with  me  the  time  that  still  remains,  I  should  then  be 
the  sooner  free ;  and  nothing  could  impede  our  enjoyment. 
Are  you  willing,  my  sweet  friend,  to  assist  in  hastening  our 
happiness  by  removing  one-half  of  the  obstacle  which  op- 
poses us  ?  I  can  only  share  my  vow  with  one  upon  whom  I 
can  depend  with  full  confidence.  And  it  is  severe,  —  noth- 
ing but  bread  and  water  twice  a  day.  and  at  night  a  few 
hours'  repose  on  a  hard  bed  ;  and,  notwithstanding  my  iuces- 


338  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

sant  professional  occupation,  I  must  devote  many  hours  to 
prayer.  If  I  am  obliged  to  attend  a  party,  I  am  not  thereby 
released  from  my  dut\' ;  and  I  must  avoid  the  enjoyment  of 
every  dainty.  If  you  can  resolve  to  pass  one  month  in  the 
observance  of  these  rules,  you  will  find  yourself  the  sooner 
in  possession  of  your  friend's  society,  which  tyou  will  relish 
the  more  from  the  consciousness  of  having  deserved  it  by 
your  praiseworthy  resolution.' 

"  The  beautiful  lady  was  sorry  to  hear  of  the  difficulty  she 
had  to  encounter ;  but  the  very  presence  of  her  beloved  so 
increased  her  attachment,  that  no  trial  which  would  insure 
the  possession  of  so  valuable  a  prize  appeared  to  her  too 
difficult.  She  therefore  assured  him,  in  the  most  affection- 
ate manner,  of  her  readiness  to  share  the  responsibility  of 
his  vow,  and  addressed  him  thus :  '  My  sweet  friend !  the 
miracle  through  which  you  have  recovered  your  health  is  to 
me  an  event  of  so  much  value  and  importance,  that  it  is  not 
only  my  duty,  but  my  joy,  to  partake  the  vow  by  which  you 
are  still  bound.  I  am  delighted  to  offer  so  strong  a  proof 
of  my  sincerity.  I  will  imitate  your  example  in  the  strictest 
manner ;  and,  until  you  discharge  me  from  my  obligation, 
no  consideration  shall  induce  me  to  stray  from  the  path  you 
point  out  to  me.' 

•  "  The  young  lawyer  once  more  repeated  the  conditions 
under  which  he  was  willing  to  transfer  to  her  the  obligation 
of  one-half  of  his  vow,  and  then  took  his  leave,  with  the  as- 
surance that  he  would  soon  visit  her  again,  to  inquire  after 
her  constancy  and  resolution.  And  she  was  then  obliged  to 
witness  his  departure,  without  receiving  so  much  as  one  kiss, 
or  pressure  of  the  hand,  and  scarcely  with  a  look  of  ordinary 
recognition.  She  found  some  degree  of  happy  relief  in  the 
strange  employment  which  the  performance  of  her  new  duties 
imposed  upon  her,  for  she  had  much  to  do  in  the  preparation 
for  her  unaccustomed  course  of  life.  In  the  first  place,  she 
removed  all  the  beautiful  exotics  and  flowers  which  had  been 
procured  to  grace  the  reception  of  her  beloved.  Then  a  hard 
mattress  was  substituted  for  her  downy  bed,  to  which  she 
retired  in  the  evening,  after  having  scarcely  satisfied  her  hun- 
ger with  a  frugal  meal  of  bread  and  water.  The  following 
morning  found  her  busily  employed  in  plain  work,  and  in 
making  a  certain  amount  of  wearing  apparel  for  the  poor  in- 
mates of  the  town  hospital.  During  this  new  occupation  she 
entertained  her  fancy  by  dwelling  upon  the  image  of  her  dear 
friend,  and  indulging  the  hope  of  future  happiness ;  and 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  339 

these  thoughts  reconciled  her  to  the  greatest  privations  and 
to  the  humblest  fare. 

"  At  the  end  of  the  first  week  the  roses  began  to  fade 
from  her  beautiful  cheeks,  her  person  to  fall  away,  and  her 
strength  to  become  weak  and  languid ;  but  a  visit  from  her 
friend  imparted  new  animation  and  fortitude.  He  encour- 
aged her  to  persist  in  her  resolution,  by  the  example  of  his 
own  perseverance,  and  by  showing  her  the  approaching  cer- 
tainty of  uninterrupted  happiness.  His  visit  was  brief,  but 
he  promised  to  return  soon. 

"•  With  cheerful  resignation  she  continued  her  new  and 
strict  course  of  life,  but  her  strength  soon  declined  so  much 
that  the  most  severe  illness  could  scarcely  have  reduced 
her  to  such  extreme  weakness.  Her  friend,  whose  visit  was 
repeated  at  the  end  of  the  week,  sympathized  with  her  con- 
dition, but  comforted  her  by  an  assurance  that  one-half  the 
period  of  her  trial  was  already  over.  But  the  severe  fast- 
ing, continual  praying,  and  incessant  work,  became  every 
day  more  unbearable ;  and  her  excessive  abstemiousness 
threatened  to  ruin  the  health  of  one  who  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  a  life  of  the  greatest  luxury.  At  length  she  found 
a  difficulty  in  walking,  and  was  compelled,  notwithstanding 
the  sultriness  of  the  season,  to  wrap  herself  up  in  the  warm- 
est clothing,  to  preserve  even  an  ordinary  degree  of  heat; 
till  finally  she  was  obliged  to  take  to  her  bed. 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  course  of  her  reflec- 
tions when  she  reflected  on  her  condition  and  on  this  strange 
occurrence,  and  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  her  distress  when 
ten  tedious  days  wearily  passed  without  the  appearance  of 
the  friend  for  whose  sake  she  had  consented  to  make  this 
unheard-of  sacrifice.  But  those  hours  of  trouble  sufficed  to 
recall  her  to  reason,  and  she  formed  her  resolution.  Her 
friend  visited  her  after  the  lapse  of  some  few  days  more  ;  and 
seating  himself  at  her  bedside,  upon  the  very  sofa  which  he 
had  occupied  when  she  made  her  first  declaration  of  love  to 
him,  he  encouraged  and  implored  her,  in  the  most  tender  and 
affectionate  tones,  to  persist  for  a  short  time  longer :  but  she 
interrupted  him  with  a  sweet  smile,  and  assured  him  that  she 
needed  no  persuasion  to  continue,  for  a  few  days,  the  per- 
formance of  a  vow  which  she  knew  full  well  had  been  ap- 
pointed for  her  advantage.  '  I  am,  as  yet,  too  feeble,'  she 
said,  '  to  express  my  thanks  to  you  as  I  could  wish.  You 
have  saved  me  from  myself.  You  have  restored  me  to  my- 
self ;  and  I  confess,  that  from  this  moment  I  am  indebted  to 


340  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

you  for  «y  existence.  My  husband  was,  indeed,  gifted  with 
prudence  and  good  sense,  and  well  knew  the  nature  of  wo- 
man's heart.  And  he  was,  moreover,  just  enough  not  to  con- 
demn a  passion  which  he  saw  might  spring  up  within  my 
bosom,  through  his  own  fault ;  and  he  was  generous  enough 
to  make  allowance  for  the  weakness  of  my  nature.  But  you, 
sir,  are  truly  virtuous  and  good.  You  have  taught  me  that 
we  possess  within  us  an  antidote  equivalent  to  the  force  of 
our  passions  ;  that  we  are  capable  of  renouncing  luxuries  to 
which  we  have  been  accustomed,  and  of  suppressing  our 
strongest  inclinations.  You  have  taught  me  this  lesson  b}' 
means  of  hope  and  of  delusion.  Neither  is  any  longer 
necessary  :  you  have  made  me  acquainted  with  the  existence 
of  that  ever-living  conscience,  which,  in  peaceful  silence, 
dwells  within  our  souls,  and  never  ceases  with  gentle  admoni- 
tions to  remind  us  of  its  presence,  till  its  sway  becomes 
irresistibly  acknowledged.  And  now  farewell.  May  your 
influence  over  others  be  as  effective  as  it  has  been  over  me. 
Do  not  confine  your  labors  to  the  task  of  unravelling  legal 
perplexities,  but  show  mankind,  by  your  own  gentle  guidance 
and  example,  that  within  every  bosom  the  germ  of  hidden 
virtue  lies  concealed.  Esteem  and  fame  will  be  your  jeward  ; 
and,  far  better  than  any  statesman  or  hero,  you  will  earn  the 
glorious  title  of  father  of  your  country.' ' 

"  We  must  all  extol  the  character  of  your  young  lawyer," 
said  the  baroness,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  clergyman's  tale  : 
"  polished,  wise,  interesting,  and  instructive,  I  wish  every 
preceptor  were  like  him,  who  undertakes  to  restrain  or  recall 
youth  from  the  path  of  error.  I  think  such  a  tale  is  pecul- 
iarly entitled  to  be  styled  a  moral  anecdote.  Eeiate  some 
more  of  the  same  nature,  and  your  audience  will  have  ample 
reason  to  be  thankful." 

Clergyman.  I  am  delighted  that  my  tale  has  earned  your 
approbation,  but  I  am  sorry  you  wish  to  hear  more  of  such 
moral  anecdotes ;  for,  to  say  the  truth,  this  is  the  first  and 
last  of  the  kind. 

Louisa.  It  certainly  does  not  do  you  much  credit,  to  say 
that  your  best  collection  only  furnishes  a  single  speci- 
men. 

Clergyman.  You  have  not  understood  me.  It  is  not 
the  only  moral  tale  I  can  relate ;  but  they  all  bear  so  close 
a  resemblance,  that  each  would  seem  only  to  repeat  the 
original. 

Louisa.     Really,  you    should   give   up  your  paradoxical 


THE  <;KKMAX  EMIGRANTS. 

style,  which  so  much  obscures  your  conversation,  and  express 
yourself  more  clearly. 

Clergyman.  With  pleasure,  then.  No  anecdote  deserves 
to  be  called  moral  which  does  not  prove  that  man  possesses 
within  himself  that  power  to  subdue  his  inclinations  which 
may  be  called  out  by  the  persuasion  of  another.  My  story 
teaches  this  doctrine,  and  no  moral  tale  can  teach  otherwise. 

Louisa.  Then,  in  order  to  act  morally,  I  must  act  con- 
trary to  my  inclinations? 

Clergyman.     Undoubtedly. 

Louisa.     Even  when  they  are  good? 

Clergyman.  No  inclinations  are  abstractedly  good,  but 
only  so  as  far  as  they  effect  good. 

Louisa.     Suppose  I  have  an  inclination  for  benevolence? 

Clergyman.  Then,  you  should  subdue  your  inclination 
for  benevolence  if  you  find  that  it  ruins  your  domestic 
happiness. 

Louisa.  Suppose  I  felt  an  irresistible  impulse  to  grati- 
tude? 

Clergyman.  It  is  wisely  ordained  that  gratitude  can 
never  be  an  impulse.  But  if  it  were,  it  would  be  better  to 
prove  ungrateful  than  to  commit  a  crime  in  order  to  oblige 
your  benefactor. 

Louisa.     Then,  there  may  be  a  thousand  moral  stories? 

Clergyman.  Yes,  in  your  sense.  But  none  of  them 
would  read  a  lesson  different  from  the  one  our  lawyer  taught, 
and  in  this  sense  there  can  be  but  one  story  of  the  kind : 
you  are  right,  however,  if  you  mean  that  the  incidents  can 
be  various. 

Louisa.  If  you  had  expressed  your  meaning  more  pre- 
cisely at  first,  we  should  not  have  disagreed. 

Clergyman.  And  we  should  have  had  no  conversation. 
Errors  and  misunderstandings  are  the  springs  of  action,  of 
life,  and  of  amusement. 

Louisa.  I  cannot  agree  with  you.  .  Suppose  a  brave 
man  saves  another  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life :  is  that  not  a 
moral  action? 

Clergyman.  Not  according  to  my  mode  of  thinking. 
But,  suppose  a  cowardly  man  were  to  overcome  his  fears  and 
do  the  same,  that  would  be  a  moral  action. 

Baroness.  I  wish,  my  dear  friend,  you  would  give  us 
some  examples,  and  convince  Louisa  of  the  truth  of  your 
theory.  Certainly,  a  mind  disposed  to  good  must  delight 
us  when  we  become  acquainted  with  it.  Nothing,  in  the 


342  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

world  can  be  more  pleasing  than  a  mind  under  the  guidance 
of  reason  and  conscience.  If  you  know  a  tale  upon  such 
a  subject,  we  should  like  to  hear  it.  I  am  fond  of  stories 
which  illustrate  a  doctrine.  They  give  a  better  explanation 
of  one's  meaning  than  dry  words  can  do. 

Clergyman.  I  certainly  can  relate  some  anecdotes  of 
that  kind,  for  I  have  paid  some  attention  to  those  qualities 
of  the  human  mind. 

Louisa.  I  would  just  make  one  observation.  I  must 
confess  I  do  not  like  stories  which  oblige  us  to  travel,  in 
imagination,  to  foreign  lands.  Why  must  every  adventure 
take  place  in  Italy,  in  Sicily,  or  in  the  East?  Are  Naples, 
Palermo,  and  Smyrna  the  only  places  where  any  thing  inter- 
esting can  happen?  One  may  transpose  the  scene  of  our 
fairy-tales  to  Ormus  and  Samarcand  for  the  purpose  of  per- 
plexing the  imagination ;  but,  if  you  would  instruct  the 
understanding  or  the  heart,  do  it  by  means  of  domestic  sto- 
ries,—  family  portraits,  —  in  which  we  shall  recognize  our 
own  likeness ;  and  our  hearts  will  more  readily  sympathize 
with  sorrow. 

Clergyman.  You  shall  be  gratified.  But  there  is  some- 
thing peculiar,  too,  about  family  stories.  They  bear  a 
strong  resemblance  to  each  other ;  and,  besides,  we  daily  see 
every  incident  and  situation  of  which  they  are  capable  fully 
worked  out  upon  the  stage.  However,  I  am  willing  to  make 
the  attempt,  and  shall  relate  a  story,  with  some  of  the  inci- 
dents of  which  you  are  already  familiar;  and  it  will  only 
prove  interesting  so  far  as  it  is  an  exact  representation  of 
the  picture  in  your  own  minds. 

"  We  may  often  observe  in  families-,  that  the  children  in- 
herit, not  only  the  personal  appearance,  but  even  the  mental 
qualities,  of  their  parents ;  and  it  sometimes  happens  that 
one  child  combines  the  dispositions  of  both  father  and 
mother  in  a  peculiar  and  remarkable  manner. 

"•A  youth,  whom  I  may  name  Ferdinand,  was  a  strong 
instance  of  this  fact.  In  his  appearance  he  resembled  both 
parents,  and  one  could  distinguish  in  his  mind  the  separate 
disposition  of  each.  He  possessed  the  gay,  thoughtless 
manner  of  his  father,  in  his  strong  desire  to  enjoy  the  pres- 
ent moment,  and,  in  most  cases,  to  prefer  himself  to  others ; 
but  he  also  inherited  the  tranquil  and  reflective  mind  of  his 
mother,  no  less  than  her  love  for  honesty  and  justice,  and  a 
willingness,  like  her,  perpetually  to  sacrifice  himself  for  the 
advantage  of  others.  To  explain  his  contradictory  conduct 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  343 

upon  many  occasions,  his  companions  were  often  reduced  to 
the  necessity  of  believing  that  he  had  two  souls.  I  must 
pass  by  many  adventures  which  happened  in  his  youth,  and 
shall  content  myself  with  relating  one  anecdote,  which  not 
only  explains  his  character  fully,  but  forms  a  remarkable 
epoch  in  his  life. 

"His  youth  was  passed  in  every  species  of  enjoyment.  His 
parents  were  affluent,  and  brought  up  their  children  extrava- 
gantly. If  the  father  indulged  in  unreasonable  expenditure, 
either  in  company,  at  the  gaming-table,  or  in  other  dissipa- 
tions, it  was  the  habit  of  the  mother  to  restrain  her  own, 
and  the  household  expenses,  so  as  to  supply  the  deficiency ; 
though  she  never  allowed  an  appearance  of  want  to  be  ob- 
served. Her  husband  was  fortunate  in  his  business  ;  he  was 
successful  in  several  hazardous  speculations  he  had  under- 
taken :  and,  as  he  was  fond  of  society,  he  had  the  happiness 
to  form  many  pleasant  and  advantageous  connections. 

' '  The  children  of  a  family  usually  copy  those  members  of 
the  household  who  seem  to  enjoy  their  lives  most.  They 
see  in  the  example  of  a  father  who  follows  such  a  course, 
a  model  worthy  of  imitation ;  and,  as  they  are  seldom  slow 
in  obeying  their  inclinations,  their  wishes  and  desires  often 
increase  very  much  in  disproportion  to  their  means  of  enjoy- 
ment. Obstacles  to  their  gratification  soon  arise  :  each  new 
addition  to  the  family  forms  a  new  claim  upon  the  capabili- 
ties of  the  parents,  who  frequently  surrender  their  own 
pleasures  for  the  sake  of  their  children ;  and,  by  common 
consent,  a  more  simple  and  less  expensive  mode  of  living 
is  adopted. 

"  Ferdinand  grew  up  with  a  consciousness  of  the  disagreea- 
ble truth,  that  he  was  often  deprived  of  many  luxuries  which 
his  more  fortunate  companions  .enjoyed.  It  distressed  him 
to  appear  inferior  to  any  of  them  in  the  richness  of  his 
apparel,  or  the  liberality  of  his  expenditure.  He  wished  to 
resemble  his  father,  whose  example  was  daily  before  him, 
and  who  appeared  to  him  a  twofold  model,  —  first,  as  a  parent, 
in  whose  favor  a  son  is  usually  prejudiced  ;  and,  secondly,  as 
a  man  who  led  a  pleasant  and  luxurious  life,  and  was,  there- 
fore, apparently  loved  and  esteemed  by  a  numerous  Acquaint- 
ance. It  is  easy  to  suppose  that  all  this  qcc^sjpped  great 
vexation  to  his  mothgr ;  but  in  this  way  Perdii^and  grew  up, 
with  his  wants  daily  increasing,  until  at  length,  when  foe  ha4 
attained  his  eighteenth  year,  his  requirements  and  wishes 
were  sadly  out  of  proportion  to  his  condition. 


344  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

"  He  had  hitherto  avoided  contracting  debts  ;  for  this  vice 
his  mother  had  impressed  him  with  the  greatest  abhor- 
rence :  and,  in  order  to  win  his  confidence,  she  had,  in 
numerous  instances,  exerted  herself  to  gratify  his  desires, 
and  relieve  him  from  occasional  embarrassments.  But  it 
happened,  unfortunately,  that  she  was  now  compelled  to 
practise  the  most  rigid  economy  in  her  household  expendi- 
ture, and  this  at  a  time  when  his  wants,  from  many  causes, 
had  increased.  He  had  commenced  to  enter  more  generally 
into  society,  tried  to  win  the  affections  of  a  very  attractive 
girl,  and  to  rival  and  even  surpass  his  companions  in  the 
elegance  of  his  attire.  His  mother,  being  unable  any  longer 
to  satisf}1  his  demands,  appealed  to  his  duty  and  filial  affection 
so  as  to  induce  him  to  restrain  his  expenses.  He  admitted 
the  justice  of  her  expostulations,  but,  being  unable  to  follow 
her  advice,  was  soon  reduced  to  a  state  of  the  greatest  men- 
tal embarrassment. 

"Without  forfeiting  the  object  of  his  dearest  wishes,  he 
found  it  impossible  to  change  his  mode  of  life.  From  his 
boyhood  he  had  been  addicted  to  his  present  pursuits,  and 
could  alter  no  iota  of  his  habits  or  practices  without  running 
the  risk  of  losing  an  old  friend,  a  desirable  companion,  or, 
what  was  worse,  abandoning  the  society  of  his  dearest  love. 

"  His  attachment  became  stronger ;  as  the  love  which  was 
bestowed  upon  him  not  only  flattered  his  vanity,  but  compli- 
mented his  understanding. 

' '  It  was  something  to  be  preferred  to  a  host  of  suitors  by 
a  handsome  and  agreeable  girl,  who  was  acknowledged  to 
be  the  richest  heiress  in  the  city.  He  boasted  of  the  pref- 
erence with  which  he  was  regarded,  and  she  also  seemed 
proud  of  the  delightful  bondage  in  which  she  was  held.  It 
now  became  indispensable  that  he  should  be  in  constant 
attendance  upon  her,  that  he  should  devote  his  time  and 
money  to  her  service,  and  afford  perpetual  proofs  of  the 
value  he  set  upon  her  affection.  All  these  inevitable  results 
of  his  attachment  occasioned  Ferdinand  more  expense  than 
he  would  otherwise  have  incurred.  His  ladylove  (who  was 
named  Ottilia)  had  been  intrusted  by  her  parents  to  the  care 
of  an  aunt,  and  no  exertions  had  been  spared  to  introduce 
her  to  societj-  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances. 
Ferdinand  exhausted  every  resource  to  furnish  her  with  the 
enjoyments  of  society,  into  all  of  which  she  entered  with 
the  greatest  delight,  and  of  which  she  herself  proved  one 
of  the  greatest  attractions. 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  345 

"  No  situation  could  certainly  be  more  wretched  than  that 
to  which  Ferdinand  was  now  reduced.  His  mother,  whom 
he  sincerely  loved  and  respected,  had  pointed  out  to  him  the 
necessity  of  embarking  in  duties  very  different  from  those 
which  he  had  hitherto  practised :  she  could  no  longer  assist 
him  in  a  pecuniary  way.  He  felt  a  horror  at  the  debts  which 
were  daily  becoming  more  burdensome  to  him,  and  he  saw 
before  him  the  difficult  task  of  reconciling  his  impoverished 
condition  with  his  anxiety  to  appear  rich  and  practise  gener- 
osity. No  mind  could  be  a  prey  to  greater  unhappiuess. 

"•  His  mind  was  now  forcibly  impressed  with  thoughts  which 
had  formerly  only  indistinctly  suggested  themselves  to  his  • 
imagination.  Certain  unpleasant  reflections  became  to  him 
the  source  of  great  unhappiness.  He  had  once  looked  upon 
his  father  as  a  model :  he  now  began  to  regard  him  as  a  rival. 
What  the  son  wished  to  enjoy,  the  parent  actually  possessed  ; 
and  the  latter  felt  none  of  the  anxieties  or  grievances  where- 
with the  former  was  tortured.  Ferdinand,  however,  was  in 
full  possession  of  every  comfort  of  life ;  but  he  envied  his 
father  the  luxuries  which  he  enjoyed,  and  with  which  he 
thought  he  might  very  well  dispense.  But  the  latter  was  of 
a  different  opinion.  He  was  one  of  those  beings  whose 
desires  are  wholly  insatiable,  and  who,  for  their  own  gratifi- 
cation, subject  their  family  and  dependants  to  the  greatest 
privations.  His  son  received  from  him  a  certain  pecuniary 
allowance,  but  a  regular  account  of  his  expenditure  was 
strictly  exacted. 

"  The  eye  of  the  envious  is  sharpened  by  restrictions,  and 
dependants  are  never  more  censorious  than  when  the  com- 
mands of  superiors  are  at  variance  with  their  practice.  Thus 
Ferdinand  came  to  watch  strictly  the  conduct  of  his  father, 
particularly  upon  points  which  concerned  his  expenditure. 
He  listened  attentively  when  it  was  rumoi'ed  that  his  father 
had  lost  heavily  at  the  gambling-table,  and  expressed  great 
dissatisfaction  at  an}'  unwonted  extravagance  which  he  might 
indulge.  '  Is  it  not  astonishing?'  he  would  say  to  himself, 
'  that,  whilst  parents  revel  in  every  luxury  that  can  spring 
from  the  possession  of  a  property  which  they  accidentally 
enjoy,  they  can  debar  their  children  of  those  reasonable 
pleasures  which  their  season  of  youth  most  urgently  re- 
quires ?  And  by  what  right  do  they  act  thus  ?  How  have 
they  acquired  this  privilege  ?  Does  it  not  arise  from  mere 
chance?  and  can  that  be  a  right  which  is  the  result  of  acci- 
dent? If  my  grandfather,  who  loved  me  as  his  own  son, 


346  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

were  still  alive,  I  should  be  better  provided  for.  He  would 
not  see  me  iu  want  of  common  necessaries,  those  things,  I 
mean,  which  we  have  had  from  our  birth.  He  would  no 
more  let  me  want,  than  he  would  approve  my  father's  ex- 
travagance. Had  he  lived  longer,  had  he  known  how  worthy 
his  grandchild  would  prove  to  inherit  a  fortune,  he  would 
have  provided  in  his  will  for  my  earlier  independence.  I 
have  heard  that  his  death  was  unexpected,  that  he  had  in- 
tended to  make  a  will ;  and  I  am  probably  indebted  to  mere 
chance  for  the  postponement  of  my  enjoying  a  fortune, 
which,  if  my  father  continue  his  present  course,  will  proba- 
bly be  lost  to  me  forever. ' 

"  With  such  discontented  thoughts  did  Ferdinand  often 
perplex  himself  in  those  hours  of  solitude  and  unhappiness, 
in 'which  he  was  prevented,  by  the  want  of  money,  from  join- 
ing his  companions  upon  some  agreeable  party  of  pleasure. 
Then  it  was  that  he  discussed  those  dangerous  questions  of 
right  and  property,  and  considered  how  far  individuals  are 
bound  by  laws  to  which  they  have  given  no  consent,  or 
whether  they  may  lawfully  burst  through  the  restraints  of 
society.  But  all  these  were  mere  pecuniary  sophistries  ;  for 
every  article  of  value  which  he  formerly  possessed  had  grad- 
ually disappeared,  and  his  daily  wants  had  now  far  outgrown 
his  allowance. 

"  He  soon  became  silent  and  reserved  ;  and,  at  such  times, 
even  his  respect  for  his  mother  disappeared,  as  she  could 
afford  him  no  assistance  :  and  he  began  to  entertain  a  hatred 
for  his  father,  who,  according  to  his  sentiments,  was  per- 
petually in  his  way. 

"  Just  at  this  period  he  made  a  discovers',  which  increased 
his  discontent.  He  learned  that  his  father  was  not  only 
an  irregular,  but  an  improvident,  manager  of  his  household. 
He  observed  that  he  often  took  money  hastily  from  his  desk, 
without  entering  it  in  his  account- book,  and  that  he  was 
afterwards  perplexed  with  private  calculations,  and  annoyed 
at  his  inability  to  balance  his  accounts.  More  than  once  did 
Ferdinand  notice  this  ;  and  his  father's  carelessness  was  the 
more  galling  to  him,  as  it  often  occurred  at  times  when  he 
himself  was  suffering  severely  from  the  want  of  money. 

"  Whilst  he  was  in  this  state  of  mind,  an  unlucky  accident 
happened,  which  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  commission 
of  a  crime,  to  which  he  had  long  felt  himself  impelled  by  a 
secret  and  ungovernable  impulse. 

"  His  father  had  desired  him  to  examine  and  arrange  a  col- 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  347 

lection  of  old  letters.  One  Sunday,  when  he  was  alone,  he 
set  to  work  in  a  room  which  contained  his  father's  writing- 
desk,  and  in  which  his  money  was  usually  kept.  The  box 
of  letters  was  heavy ;  and,  in  the  act  of  lifting  it  from  the 
ground,  he  pushed  unintentionally  against  the  desk,  when 
the  latter  suddenly  flew  open.  The  rolls  of  money  lay  tempt- 
ingly displayed  before  him.  Without  allowing  time  for  a 
moment's  reflection,  he  took  a  roll  of  gold  from  that  part  of 
the  desk  where  he  thought  his  father  kept  a  supply  of  money 
for  his  own  occasional  wants.  He  shut  the  desk  again,  and 
repeated  the  experiment  of  opening  it.  He  once  more  suc- 
ceeded, and  saw  that  he  could  now  command  the  treasure  as 
completely  as  if  he  had  possessed  the  key. 

' '  He  soon  plunged  once  more  into  all  those  dissipations 
which  he  had  lately  been  obliged  to  renounce.  He  became 
more  constant  than  ever  in  his  attentions  to  Ottilia,  and  more 
passionate  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure.  Even  his  former 
graceful  animation  was  converted  into  a  species  of  excite- 
ment, which,  though  it  was  far  from  unbecoming,  was  defi- 
cient in  that  kind  attention  to  others  which  is  so  agreeable. 

"•Opportunity  is  to  passion  what  a  spark  is  to  gunpowder, 
and  those  desires  which  we  gratify  contrary  to  the  dictates  of 
conscience  always  rule  with  the  most  ungovernable  power. 
Ferdinand's  own  convictions  loudly  condemned  his  conduct, 
but  he  endeavored  to  justify  himself  by  specious  arguments ; 
and  though  his  manner  became  in  appearance  more  free  and 
unrestrained  than  before,  he  was  in  reality  a  captive  to  the 
influence  of  his  evil  inclinations. 

"Just  at  this  time  the  wearing  of  extravagant  trifles  came 
into  fashion.  Ottilia  was  fond  of  personal  ornaments,  and 
Ferdinand  endeavored  to  discover  a  mode  of  gratifying  her 
taste  without  apprising  her  where  her  supply  of  presents 
came  from.  Her  suspicions  fell  upon  an  old  uncle,  and  Fer- 
dinand's gratification  was  indescribable  at  observing  the 
satisfaction  of  his  mistress  and  the  course  of  her  mistaken 
suspicions.  But,  unfortunately  for  his  peace  of  mind,  he  was 
now  obliged  to  have  frequent  recourse  to  his  father's  desk, 
in  order  to  gratify  Ottilia's  fancy  and  his  own  inclinations  ; 
and  he  pursued  this  course  now  the  more  boldl}',  as  he  had 
lately  observed  that  his  father  grew  more  and  more  careless 
about  entering  in  his  account-book  the  sums  he  himself 
required. 

"  The  time  now  arrived  for  Ottilia's  return  to  her  parents. 
The  young  couple  were  overpowered  with  grief  at  the  pros- 


348  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

pect  of  their  separation,  and  one  circumstance  added  to  their 
sorrow.  Ottilia  had  accidentally  learned  that  the  presents  we 
have  spoken  of  had  come  from  Ferdinand :  she  questioned 
him,  and  he  confessed  the  truth  with  feelings  of  evident 
sorrow.  She  insisted  upon  returning  them,  and  this  occa- 
sioned him  the  bitterest  anguish.  He  declared  his  deter- 
mination not  to  live  without  her,  prayed  that  she  would 
preserve  him  her  attachment,  and  implored  that  she  would 
not  refuse  her  hand  as  soon  as  he  should  have  provided 
an  establishment.  She  loved  him,  was  moved  at  his  en- 
treaties, promised  what  he  wished,  and  sealed  her  vow  with 
the  warmest  embraces  and  a  thousand  passionate  kisses. 

"After  her  departure  Ferdinand  was  reduced  to  sad  soli- 
tude. The  company  in  which  he  had  found  delight  pleased 
him  no  more,  she  being  absent.  From  the  mere  force  of 
habit  he  mingled  with  his  former  associates,  and  had  re- 
course to  his  father's  desk  to  supply  those  expenses  which 
in  reality  he  felt  but  slight  inclination  to  indulge.  He  was 
now  frequently  alone,  and  his  natural  good  disposition  be- 
gan to  obtain  the  mastery  over  him.  In  moments  of  calm 
reflection  he  felt  astonished  how  he  could  have  listened  to 
that  deceitful  sophistry  about  justice  and  right,  and  his  claim 
to  the  goods  of  others  ;  and  he  wondered  at  his  approval  of 
those  evil  arguments  by  which  he  had  been  led  to  justify  his 
dishonest  conduct.  But  in  the  mean  time,  before  these  cor- 
rect ideas  of  truth  and  uprightness  produced  a  practical 
effect  upon  his  conduct,  he  yielded  more  than  once  to  the 
temptation  of  supplying  his  wants,  in  extreme  cases,  from 
his  father's  treasury.  This  plan,  however,  was  now  adopted 
with  more  reluctance ;  and  he  seemed  to  be  under  the  irre- 
sistible impulse  of  an  evil  spirit. 

"  At  length  he  took  courage,  and  formed  the  resolution  of 
rendering  a  repetition  of  the  practice  impossible,  by  inform- 
ing his  father  of  the  facility  with  which  his  desk  could  be 
opened.  He  took  his  measures  cautiously  ;  and  once,  in  the 
presence  of  his  father,  he  carried  the  box  of  letters  we  have 
mentioned  into  the  room,  pretended  to  stumble  accidentally 
against  the  desk,  and  astonished  his  father  by  causing  it  to 
spring  open.  They  examined  the  lock  without  delay,  and 
found  that  it  had  become  almost  useless  from  age.  It  was 
at  once  repaired,  and  Ferdinand  soon  enjoyed  a  return  of  his 
peace  of  mind  when  he  saw  his  father's  rolls  of  money  once 
more  in  safe  custody. 

"  But  he  was  not  content  with  this.     He  formed  the  resolu- 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.        ,  349 

tion  of  restoring  the  money  which  he  hud  abstracted.  He 
commenced  the  most  economical  course  of  life  for  this  pur- 
pose, with  a  view  of  saving  from  his  allowance  all  that  could 
possibly  be  spared  from  the  merest  necessities.  It  is  true 
that  this  was  but  little  ;  but  it  appeared  much,  as  it  was  tb^ 
commencement  of  a  system  of  restitution  :  and  there  wiu 
always  be  a  wonderful  difference  between  the  last  guinea 
borrowed  and  the  first  guinea  saved.  He  had  pursued  this 
upright  course  for  but  a  short  time,  when  his  father  deter- 
mined to  settle  him  in  business.  His  intention  was  to  form 
a  connection  with  a  manufactory  at  some  distance  from  his 
residence.  The  design  was  to  establish  a  company  in  a  part 
of  the  country  where  labor  and  provisions  were  cheap,  to 
appoint  an  agent,  and  extend  the  business  as  widely  as  pos- 
sible by  means  of  money  and  credit.  It  was  determined 
that  Ferdinand  should  inquire  into  the  practicability  of  the 
scheme,  and  forward  a  circumstantial  report  of  his  proceed- 
ings. His  father  furnished  him  with  money  for  his  journey, 
but  placed  a  moderate  limit  upon  his  expenditure.  The 
supply  was,  however,  sufficient  for  his  wants ;  and  Ferdinand 
had  no  reason  to  complain  of  a  deficiency. 

"Ferdinand  used  the  utmost  economy  also  upon  his  jour- 
ney, and  found  upon  the  closest  calculation  that  he  could  live 
upon  one-third  of  his  allowance,  by  practising  strict  restraint. 
He  was  now  anxious  to  find  means  of  gradually  saving  a  cer- 
tain sum,  and  it  soon  presented  itself ;  for  opportunity  comes 
indifferently  to  the  good  and  to  the  bad,  and  favors  all  par- 
ties alike.  In  the  neighborhood  which  he  designed  to  visit, 
he  found  things  more  to  his  advantage  than  had  been  expected. 
No  new  habits  of  expense  had  as  yet  been  introduced.  A 
moderate  capital  alone  had  been  invested  in  business,  and 
the  manufacturers  were  satisfied  with  small  profits.  Ferdi- 
nand soon  saw,  that  with  a  large  capital,  and  the  advantages 
of  a  new  system,  by  purchasing  the  raw  material  by  whole- 
sale, and  erecting  machinery  under  the  guidance  of  experi- 
enced workmen,  large  and  solid  advantages  might  be  secured. 

"The  prospect  of  a  life  of  activity  gave  him  the  greatest 
delight.  The  image  of  his  beloved  Ottilia  was  ever  before 
him  ;  and  the  charming  and  picturesque  character  of  the 
country  made  him  anxiously  wish  that  his  father  might  be 
induced  to  establish  him  in  this  spot,  commit  the  conduct  of 
the  new  manufactory  to  him,  and  thus  afford  him  the  means 
of  attaining  independence.  His  attention  to  business  was 
secured  by  the  demands  of  his  own  personal  interests.  He 


350  THE  RECREATIOXS  OF 

now  found  an  opportunity,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  for 
the  exercise  of  his  understanding  and  judgment,  and  for 
exerting  his  other  mental  powers.  Not  only  the  beautiful 
neighborhood,  but  his  business  and  occupation,  were  full  of 
attractions  for  him :  they  acted  as  balm  and  cordial  to  his 
wounded  heart,  whenever  he  recalled  the  painful  remembrance 
of  his  father's  house,  in  which,  influenced  by  a  species  of 
insanity,  he  had  acted  in  a  manner  which  now  seemed  to  him 
in  the  highest  degree  criminal. 

"His  constant  companion  was  a  friend  of  his  family, — 
a  person  of  strong  mind,  but  delicate  health,  who  had  first 
conceived  the  project  of  founding  this  establishment.  He 
instructed  Ferdinand  in  all  his  own  views  and  projects,  and 
seemed  to  take  great  pleasure  in  the  thorough  harmony  of 
mind  which  existed  between  them.  This  latter  personage 
led  a  simple  and  retired  life,  partly  from  choice,  and  partly 
because  his  health  required  it.  He  had  no  family  of  his  own. 
His  household  establishment  was  conducted  by  a  niece,  who 
he  intended  should  inherit  his  fortune ;  and  it  was  his  wish 
to  see  her  united  to  a  person  of  active  and  enterprising  dis- 
position, who,  by  means  of  capital  and  persevering  industry, 
might  carry  on  the  business  which  his  infirm  health  and  want 
of  means  disqualified  him  from  conducting.  His  first  inter- 
view with  Ferdinand  suggested  that  he  had  found  the  man 
he  wanted ;  and  he  was  the  more  strongly  confirmed  in  this 
opinion,  upon  observing  his  fondness  for  business,  and  his 
attachment  to  the  place.  His  niece  became  aware  of  his  in- 
tentions, and  seemed  to  approve  of  them.  She  was  a  young 
and  interesting  girl,  of  sweet  and  engaging  disposition.  Her 
care  of  her  uncle's  establishment  had  imparted  to  her  mind 
the  valuable  qualities  of  activity  and  decision,  whilst  her 
attention  to  his  health  had  softened  down  these  traits  by  a 
proper  union  of  gentleness  and  affection.  It  would  have 
been  difficult  to  find  a  person  better  calculated  to  make  a 
husband  happy. 

"  But  Ferdinand's  mind  was  engrossed  with  the  thoughts 
of  Ottilia's  love  :  he  saw  no  attractions  in  the  charms  of  this 
country  beauty  ;  or,  at  least,  his  admiration  was  circumscribed 
by  the  wish,  that,  if  ever  Ottilia  settled  down  as  his  wife  in 
this  part  of  the  country,  she  might  have  such  a  person  for 
her  assistant  and  housekeeper.  But  he  was  free  and  unre- 
strained in  his  intercourse  with  the  young  lady,  he  valued 
her  more  as  he  came  to  know  her  better,  and  his  conduct 
became  more  respectful  and  attentive ;  and  both  she  and 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  351 

her  uncle  soon  put  their  own  interpretations  upon  his  be- 
havior. 

"  Ferdinand  had  in  the  mean  time  made  all  the  requisite 
inquiries  about  his  father's  business.  The  uncle's  sugges- 
tions had  enabled  him  to  form  certain  projects  which,  with  his 
usual  thoughtlessness,  he  made  the  subject  of  conversation. 
He  had  more  than  once  uttered  certain  gallant  speeches  when 
conversing  with  the  niece,  until  her  uncle  and  herself  fancied 
that  he  actually  indulged  intentions  which  gave  them  both 
unfeigned  satisfaction.  To  Ferdinand's  great  joy,  he  had 
learned  that  he  could  not  only  derive  great  advantage  from 
his  father's  plan,  but  that  another  favorable  project  would 
enable  him  to  make  restitution  of  the  money  he  had  with- 
drawn, and  the  recollection  of  which  pressed  like  a  heavy 
burden  upon  his  conscience.  He  communicated  his  intentions 
to  his  friend,  who  tendered,  not  only  his  cordial  congratula- 
tions, but  every  possible  assistance  to  cany  out  his  views. 
He  even  proposed  to  furnish  his  young  friend  with  the 
necessary  merchandise  upon  credit,  a  part  of  which  offer  was 
thankfully  accepted ;  some  portion  of  the  goods  being  paid 
for  with  what  money  Ferdinand  had  saved  from  his  travelling 
expenses,  and  a  short  credit  being  taken  for  the  remainder. 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  joy  with  which  Fer- 
dinand prepared  for  his  return  home.  There  can  be  no 
greater  delight  than  is  experienced  by  a  man  who,  by  his 
own  unaided  resources,  frees  himself  from  the  consequences 
of  error.  Heaven  looks  down  with  satisfaction  upon  such  a 
spectacle  ;  and  we  cannot  deny  the  force  of  the  seeming  para- 
dox which  assures  us  that  there  is  more  joy  before  God  over 
one  returning  sinner,  than  over  ninet}--nme  just. 

"  But,  unfortunately,  neither  the  good  resolutions  nor  the 
repentance  and  improvement  of  Ferdinand  could  remove  the 
evil  consequences  of  his  crime,  which  were  destined  once  more 
to  disturb  and  agitate  his  mind  with  the  most  painful  reflec- 
tions. The  storm  had  gathered  during  his  absence,  and  it 
was  destined  to  burst  over  his  head  upon  his  return. 

"We  have  already  had  occasion  to  observe,  that  Ferdi- 
nand's father  was  most  irregular  in  his  habits ;  but  his  business 
was  under  the  superintendence  of  a  clever  manager.  He  had 
not  himself  missed  the  money  which  had  been  abstracted  by 
his  son,  with  the  exception  of  one  roll  of  foreign  money, 
which  he  had  won  from  a  stranger  at  play.  This  he  had 
missed,  and  the  circumstance  seemed  to  him  unaccountable. 
He  was  afterwards  somewhat  surprised  to  perceive  that 


352  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

several  rolls  of  ducats  could  not  be  found,  money  which  he 
had  some  time  before  lent  to  a  friend,  but  which  he  knew  had 
been  repaid.  He  was  aware  of  the  previous  insecurity  of 
his  desk,  and  felt,  therefore,  convinced  that  he  had  been 
robbed.  This  feeling  rendered  him  extremely  unhappy. 
His  suspicions  fell  upon  every  one.  In  anger  and  exaspera- 
tion, he  related  the  circumstance tto  his  wife.  The  entire 
household  was  thereupon  strictly  examined,  and  neither  ser- 
vants nor  children  were  allowed  to  escape.  The  good  wife 
exerted  herself  to  tranquillize  her  husband :  she  represented 
the  discredit  which  a  mere  report  of  this  circumstance  would 
bring  upon  the  family  ;  that  no  one  would  sympathize  in 
their  misfortune,  further  than  to  humiliate  them  with  their 
compassion  ;  that  neither  he  nor  she  could  expect  to  escape 
the  tongue  of  scandal ;  that  strange  observations  would  be 
made  if  the  thief  should  remain  undiscovered ;  and  she  sug- 
gested, that  perhaps,  if  they  continued  silent,  they  might  re- 
cover their  lost  money  without  reducing  the  wretched  criminal 
to  a  state  of  misery  for  life.  In  this  manner  she  prevailed 
upon  her  husband  to  remain  quiet,  and  to  investigate  the 
affair  in  silence. 

"  But  the  discover}'  was  unfortunately  soon  made.  Ottilia's 
aunt  had,  of  course,  been  informed  of  the  engagement  of  the 
young  couple.  She  had  heard  of  the  presents  her  niece  had 
received.  The  attachment  was  not  approved  by  her,  and 
she  had  only  maintained  silence  in  consequence  of  her  niece's 
absence.  She  would  have  consented  to  her  marrying  Ferdi- 
nand, but  she  did  not  like  uncertainty  on  such  a  subject ; 
and  as  she  knew  that  he  was  shortly  to  return,  and  her  niece 
was  expected  daily,  she  determined  to  inform  the  parents  of 
the  state  of  things,  to  inquire  their  opinion,  to  ask  whether 
Ferdinand  was  to  have  a  settlement,  and  if  they  would  con- 
sent to  the  marriage. 

"The  mother  was  not  a  little  astonished  at  this  informa- 
tion, and  she  was  shocked  at  hearing  of  the  presents  which 
Ferdinand  had  made  to  Ottilia.  But  she  concealed  her  sur- 
prise ;  and,  requesting  the  aunt  to  allow  her  some  time  to 
confer  with  her  husband,  she  expressed  her  own  concurrence 
ia  the  intended  marriage,  and  her  expectation  that  her  son 
would  be  advantageously  provided  for. 

"  The  aunt  took  her  leave,  but  Ferdinand's  mother  did  not 
deem  it  advisable  to  communicate  the  circumstance  to  her 
husband.  She  now  had  to  undertake  tlie  sad  duty  of  dis- 
covering whether  Ferdinand  had  purchased  Ottilia's  presents 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  353 

with  the  stolen  money.  She  went  straight  to  the  shopkeeper 
who  dealt  in  such  goods,  made  some  general  inquiries,  and 
said  at  last,  '  that  he  ought  not  to  overcharge  her,  particu- 
larly as  her  son,  who  had  bought  some  similar  articles,  had 
procured  them  from  him  at  a  more  reasonable  charge.'  This 
the  tradesman  denied,  producing  the  account,  and  further 
observing  that  he  had  even  added  something  for  the  ex- 
change ;  as  Ferdinand  had  paid  for  the  goods  partly  in  foreign 
money.  He  specified  the  exact  nature  of  the  coin ;  and,  to 
her  inexpressible  grief,  it  was  the  very  same  which  had  been 
stolen  from  her  husband.  She  left  the  shop  with  sorrowful 
heart.  Ferdinand's  crime  was  but  too  evident.  The  sum 
her  husband  had  lost  was  large,  and  she  saw  in  all  its  force 
the  extent  of  the  crime  and  its  evil  results.  But  she  had 
prudence  enough  to  conceal  her  discovery.  She  waited  for 
the  return  of  her  son,  with  feelings  of  mingled  fear  and 
anxiety.  Although  she  wished  for  an  explanation,  she 
dreaded  the  consequences  of  a  further  inquiry. 

"  At  length  he  arrived  in  the  highest  spirits.  He  expected 
the  greatest  praise  from  the  manner  in  which  he  trans- 
acted his  business,  and  was  the  bearer  of  a  sum  of  money 
sufficient  to  make  compensation  for  what  he  had  criminally 
abstracted.  His  father  heard  his  statement  with  pleasure, 
but  did  not  manifest  so  much  delight  as  the  son  expected. 
His  late  losses  had  irritated  his  temper ;  and  he  was  the  more 
distressed,  because  he  had  some  large  payments  to  make  at 
the  moment.  Ferdinand  felt  hurt  at  his  father's  depression 
of  mind,  and  his  own  peace  was  further  disturbed  by  the 
sight  of  every  thing  around  him  :  the  very  room  in  which  he 
was,  the  furniture,  and  the  sight  of  the  fatal  desk,  those 
silent  witnesses  of  his  crime,  spoke  loudly  to  his  guilty  con- 
science. His  satisfaction  was  at  an  end.  He  shrunk  within 
himself,  and  felt  like  a  culprit. 

"  After  a  few  days'  delay  he  was  about  to  distract  his  at- 
tention from  these  thoughts  by  examining  the  merchandise  he 
had  ordered,  when  his  mother,  finding  him  alone,  reproached 
him  with  his  fault  in  a  tone  of  affectionate  earnestness,  which 
did  not  allow  the  smallest  opportunity  for  prevarication.  He 
was  overcome  with  grief.  He  threw  himself  at  her  feet,  im- 
ploring her  forgiveness,  acknowledging  his  crime,  and  pro- 
testing that  nothing  but  his  affection  for  Ottilia  had  misled 
him  :  he  assured  her,  in  conclusion,  that  it  was  the  only  of- 
fence of  the  kind  of  which  he  had  ever  been  guilty.  He 
related  the  circumstances  of  his  bitter  repentance,  of  his 


354  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

having  acquainted  his  father  with  the  insecurity  of  his  desk, 
and  finally  informed  her  how,  by  personal  privations  and  a  for- 
tunate speculation,  he  was  in  a  condition  to  make  restitution. 

"  His  mother  heard  him  calmly,  but  insisted  on  knowing 
how  he  had  disposed  of  so  much  money ;  as  the  presents 
would  account  but  for  a  small  part  of  the  sum  that  was  miss- 
ing. She  produced,  to  his  dismay,  an  account  of  what  his 
father  had  missed ;  but  he  denied  having  taken,  even  so  much 
silver :  the  missing  gold  he  solemnly  protested  he  had  never 
touched.  His  mother  became  exasperated  at  this  denial.  She 
rebuked  him  his  attempting  to  deceive  her,  and  that  at  a  mo- 
ment when  he  laid  claim  to  the  virtue  of  repentance  ;  asserting 
that  if  he  could  be  guilty  in  one  respect,  she  must  doubt  his 
innocence  in  another.  She  suggested  that  he  might  perhaps 
have  accomplices  amongst  his  dissipated  companions,  that 
perhaps  the  business  he  had  carried  on  was  transacted  with 
the  stolen  money,  and  that  probably  he  would  have  confessed 
nothing  if  his  crime  had  not  been  accidentally  discovered. 
She  threatened  him  with  the  anger  of  his  father,  with  judicial 
punishment,  with  her  highest  displeasure  ;  but  nothing  affected 
him  more  than  his  learning  that  his  projected  marriage  with 
Ottilia  had  been  already  spoken  of.  She  left  him  in  the 
most  wretched  condition.  His  real  crime  had  been  discov- 
ered, and  he  was  suspected  of  even  greater  guilt.  How  could 
he  ever  persuade  his  parents  that  he  had  not  stolen  the  gold  ? 
He  dreaded  the  public  exposure  which  was  likely  to  result 
from  his  father's  irritable  temper,  and  he  now  had  time  to 
compare  his  present  wretched  condition  with  the  happiness 
he  might  have  attained.  All  his  prospects  of  an  active  life 
and  of  a  marriage  with  Ottilia  were  at  an  end.  He  saw  his 
utter  wretchedness,  abandoned,  a  fugitive  in  foreign  lands, 
exposed  to  every  species  of  misfortune. 

"  But  these  reflections  were  not  the  worst  evil  he  had  to 
encounter ;  though  they  bewildered  his  mind,  wounded  his 
pride,  and  crushed  his  affections.  His  most  severe  pangs 
arose  from  the  thought,  that  his  honest  resolution,  his  noble 
intention  to  repair  the  past,  was  suspected,  repudiated,  and 
denied.  And,  even  if  these  thoughts  gave  birth  to  a  feeling 
resembling  despair,  he  could  not  deny  that  he  had  deserved 
his  fate  ;  and  to  this  conviction  must  be  added  his  knowledge 
of  the  fatal  truth,  that  one  crime  is  sufficient  to  destroy  the 
character  forever.  Such  meditations,  and  the  apprehension 
that  his  firmest  resolutions  of  amendment  might  be  looked 
upon  as  insincere,  made  life  itself  a  burden. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  355 

"  In  this  moment  of  abandonment  he  appealed  to  Heaven 
for  assistance.  He  sank  upon  his  knees,  and,  moistening 
the  ground  with  tears  of  contrition,  implored  help  from  his 
divine  Maker.  His  prayer  was  worthy  of  being  heard.  Man, 
throwing  off  his  load  of  crimes,  has  a  claim  upon  Heaven. 
He  who  has  exhausted  every  effort  of  his  own  may,  as  a 
last  resource,  appeal  to  God.  He  was  for  some  time  en- 
gaged in  earnest  prayer,  when  the  door  opened,  and  some  one 
entered  his  apartment.  It  was  his  mother,  who  approached 
him  with  a  cheerful  look,  saw  his  agitation,  and  addressed 
him  with  consoling  words.  *  How  happy  I  am,'  she  said, 
'  to  find  that  I  may  credit  your  assertions,  and  regard  your 
sorrow  as  sincere  !  The  missing  sum  of  gold  has  been  found  : 
your  father,  when  he  received  it  from  his  friend,  handed  it 
to  his  secretary,  who  forgot  the  circumstance  amid  the 
numerous  transactions  of  the  day.  And,  with  respect  to  the 
silver,  }<ou  are  also  right ;  as  the  amount  taken  is  less  than  I 
had  supposed.  Unable  to  conceal  my  joy,  I  promised  youi 
father  to  replace  the  missing  sum  if  he  would  consent  tc 
forbear  making  any  further  inquiry.' 

"Ferdinand's  joy  was  indescribable.  He  completed  al 
once  his  business  arrangements,  gave  his  mother  the  prom- 
ised money,  and  in  addition  replaced  the  amount  which  hia 
father  had  lost  through  his  own  irregularity.  He  became 
gradually  more  cheerful  and  happy,  but  the  whole  circum- 
stance produced  a  serious  impression  upon  his  mind.  He 
became  convinced  that  every  man  has  power  to  accomplish 
good,  and  that  our  divine  Maker  will  infallibly  extend  to  him 
his  assistance  in  the  hour  of  trial,  —  a  truth  which  he  himself 
had  learned  from  late  experience.  He  now  unfolded  to  his 
father  his  plan  of  establishing  himself  in  the  neighborhood 
from  which  he  had  lately  returned.  He  fully  explained  the 
nature  of  the  intended  business.  His  father  consented  to  his 
proposals,  and  his  mother  at  a  proper  time  related  to  hei 
husband  the  attachment  of  Ferdinand  to  Ottilia.  He  was 
delighted  at  the  prospect  of  having  so  charming  a  daughter- 
in-law,  and  felt  additional  pleasure  at  the  idea  of  being  able 
to  establish  his  son  without  the  necessity  of  incurring  much 
expense." 

"I  like  this  story,"  said  Louisa,  when  the  old  clergyman 
had  finished  his  tale;  "and  though  the  incidents  are  taken 
from  low  life,  yet  the  tone  is  sufficiently  elevated  to  prove 
agreeable.  And  it  seems  to  me,  that  if  we  examine  our- 


356  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

selves,  or  observe  others,  we  shall  find  that  men  are  seldom 
influenced  by  their  own  reflections,  either  to  pursue  or  to 
abandon  a  certain  course,  but  are  generally  impelled  by 
extraneous  circumstances . ' ' 

"I  wish  for  my  part,"  said  Charles,  "that  we  were  not 
obliged  to  deny  ourselves  any  thing,  and  that  we  had  no 
knowledge  of  those  blessings  which  we  are  not  allowed  to 
possess.  But  unfortunately  we  walk  in  an  orchard  where, 
though  all  the  trees  are  loaded  with  fruit,  we  are  compelled 
to  leave  them  untouched,  to  satisfy  ourselves  with  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  shade,  and  forego  the  greatest  indulgence." 

"Now,"  said  Louisa  to  the  clergyman,  "  let  us  hear  the 
rest  of  the  story." 

Clergyman.     It  is  finished. 

Louisa.  The  denoument  may  be  finished,  but  we  should 
like  to  hear  the  end. 

Clergyman.  Your  distinction  is  just ;  and,  since  you  seem 
interested  in  the  fate  of  my  friend,  I  will  tell  you  briefly  what 
happened  to  him. 

"  Relieved  from  the  oppressive  weight  of  so  dreadful  a 
crime,  and  enjoying  some  degree  of  satisfaction  at  his  own 
conduct,  his  thoughts  were  now  directed  to  his  future  happi- 
ness ;  and  he  expected  with  anxiety  the  return  of  Ottilia,  that 
he  might  explain  his  position,  and  perform  the  promise  he 
had  given  her.  She  came,  accompanied  by  her  parents. 
He  hastened  to  meet  her,  and  found  her  more  beautiful  than 
ever.  He  waited  with  impatience  for  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  her  alone,  and  of  unfolding  all  his  future  pro- 
jects. The  moment  arrived ;  and  with  a  heart  full  of  ten- 
derness and  love  he  spoke  of  his  hopes,  of  his  expectations 
of  happiness,  and  of  his  wish  to  share  it  with  her.  But 
what  was  his  surprise  and  astonishment  when  he  found  that 
she  heard  his  announcement  with  indifference  and  even  with 
contempt,  and  indulged  in  unpleasant  jokes  about  the  her- 
mitage prepared  for  their  reception,  and  the  interest  they 
wouM  excite  by  enacting  the  characters  of  shepherd  and 
shepherdess  in  a  pastoral  abode. 

"  Her  behavior  occasioned  bitter  reflections.  He  was  hurt 
and  grieved  at  her  indifference.  She  had  been  unjust  to 
him,  and  he  now  began  to  observe  faults  in  her  conduct 
which  had  previously  escaped  his  attention.  In  addition,  it 
required  no  very  keen  perception  to  remark  that  a  cousin, 
who  had  accompanied  her,  had  made  an  impression  upon  her, 
and  won  a  large  portion  of  her  affections. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  357 

"But  Ferdinand  soon  perceived  the  necessity  of  strug- 
gling with  this  new  source  of  sorrow  ;  and,  as  victory  had 
attended  his  exertions  in  one  instance,  he  hopd  to  be  suc- 
cessful upon  a  second  occasion.  He  saw  Ottilia  frequently, 
and  determined  to  observe  her  closely.  His  conduct  towards 
her  was  attentive  and  affectionate,  and  her  deportment  was  of 
a  similar  nature  ;  but  her  attractions  had  become  diminished 
for  him  :  he  soon  found  that  her  professions  were  not  cordial 
or  sincere,  and  that  she  could  be  affectionate  and  cold, 
attractive  and  repulsive,  charming  and  disagreeable,  accord- 
ing to  the  mere  whim  of  the  moment.  He  gradually  became 
indifferent  to  her,  and  at  length  resolved  to  break  the  last 
link  of  their  connection. 

*'  But  this  was  more  difficult  than  he  had  anticipated.  He 
found  her  one  day  alone,  and  took  courage  to  remind  her 
of  their  engagement,  and  of  those  happy  moments  in  which, 
under  the  influence  of  the  most  delightful  feelings,  they  had 
discoursed  with  joyful  anticipations  of  their  future  happiness. 
She  was  in  a  tender  mood,  and  he  began  to  hope  that  he 
might  perhaps  have  been  deceived  in  the  estimate  he  had 
lately  formed  of  her.  He  thereupon  began  to  describe  his 
worldly  prospects,  and  the  probable  success  of  his  intended 
establishment.  She  expressed  her  satisfaction,  accompanied, 
however,  with  regret  that  their  union  must  on  this  account 
be  postponed  still  longer.  She  gave  him  to  understand  that 
she  had  not  the  least  wish  to  leave  the  pleasures  of  a  city 
life,  but  expressed  her  hopes  that  he  might  be  able,  after 
some  years'  active  industry  in  the  country,  to  return  home, 
and  become  a  citizen  of  consequence.  She  gave  him,  more- 
over, to  understand  that  she  expected  he  would  play  a  more 
respectable  and  honest  part  in  life  than  his  father. 

u  Ferdinand  saw  plainly  that  he  could  expect  no  happiness 
from  such  a  union,  and  yet  he  felt  the  difficulty  of  wholly 
disengaging  himself.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  would  prob- 
ably have  parted  from  her  in  uncertainty  about  the  future, 
had  he  not  been  finally  influenced  by  the  conduct  of  Ottilia's 
cousin,  towards  whom  he  thought  she  displayed  too  much 
tenderness.  Ferdinand,  thereupon,  wrote  a  letter  assuring 
her  that  it  was  still  in  her  power  to  make  him  happy,  but 
that  it  could  not  be  advisable  to  encourage  indefinite  hopes, 
or  to  enter  into  engagements  for  an  uncertain  future. 

' '  He  trusted  that  this  letter  would  produce  a  favorable 
answer ;  but  he  received  a  reply  which  his  heart  deplored, 
but  which  his  judgment  approved.  She  released  him  from 


358  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

his  promise,  without  rejecting  his  love,  and  adverted  to  her 
own  feelings  in  the  same  ambiguous  manner.  She  was  still 
bound  by  the  sense  of  her  letter,  but  free  by  its  literal  mean- 
ing. But  why  should  I  delay  communicating  the  inevitable 
result?  Ferdinand  hastened  back  to  the  peaceful  abode  he 
had  left,  and  formed  his  determination  at  once.  He  became 
attentive  and  diligent  in  business,  and  was  encouraged  in 
this  course  by  the  affections  of  the  kind  being  of  whom  we 
have  already  spoken,  and  the  exertions  of  her  uncle  to  employ 
every  means  in  his  power  to  render  them  happy.  I  knew 
him  afterwards,  when  he  was  surrounded  by  a  numerous 
and  prosperous  family.  He  related  his  own  story  to  me 
himself ;  and,  as  it  often  happens  with  individuals  whose 
early  life  has  been  marked  by  some  uncommon  accident, 
his  own  adventures  had  become  so  indelibly  impressed  upon 
his  mind,  that  they  exerted  a  deep  influence  on  his  conduct. 
Even  as  a  man  and  as  a  father,  he  constantly  denied  him- 
self the  enjoyment  of  many  gratifications  in  order  not  to 
forget  the  practice  of  self-restraint;  and  the  whole  course 
of  his  children's  education  was  founded  upon  this  principle, 
that  they  must  accustom  themselves  to  a  frequent  denial  of 
their  most  ardent  desires. 

"  I  once  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  an  instance  of  the 
system  he  adopted.  One  of  his  children  was  about  to  eat 
something  at  table,  of  which  he  was  particularly  fond.  His 
father  forbade  it,  apparently  without  reason.  To  my  aston- 
ishment, the  child  obeyed  with  the  utmost  cheerfulness  ;  and 
dinner  proceeded  as  if  nothing  had  occurred.  And,  in  this 
manner,  even  the  eldest  members  of  the  family  often  allowed 
a  tempting  dish  of  fruit  or  some  other  dainty  to  pass  them 
untasted.  But,  notwithstanding  this,  a  general  freedom 
reigned  in  his  house  ;  and  there  was  at  times  a  sufficient  dis- 
play, both  of  good  and  bad  conduct.  But  Ferdinand  was  for 
the  most  part  indifferent  to  what  occurred,  and  allowed  an 
almost  unrestrained  license.  At  times,  however,  when  a 
certain  week  came  about,  orders  were  given  for  precise 
punctuality,  the  clocks  were  regulated  to  the  second,  every 
member  of  the  family  received  his  orders  for  the  day,  busi- 
ness and  pleasure  had  their  turn,  and  no  one  dared  to  be  a 
single  second  in  arrear.  I  could  detain  you  for  hours  in 
describing  his  conversation  and  remarks  on  this  extraordi- 
nary system  of  education.  He  was  accustomed  to  jest  with 
me  upon  my  vows  as  a  Catholic  priest,  and  maintained  that 
every  man  should  make  a  vow  to  practise  self-restraint,  as 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  359 

well  as  to  require  obedience  from  others ;  but  he  observed 
that  the  exercise  of  these  vows,  in  place  of  being  perpetu- 
ally demanded,  was  suitable  only  for  certain  occasions." 

The  baroness  observed,  that  she  thought  Ferdinand  was 
perfectly  right ;  and  she  compared  the  authority  of  a  parent 
to  the  executive  power  in  a  kingdom,  which  being  weak,  the 
legislative  authority  can  be  of  little  avail. 

At  this  moment  Louisa  rushed  hastily  to  the  window,  hav- 
ing heard  Frederick  ride  past.  She  ran  to  meet  him,  and 
accompanied  him  into  the  parlor.  He  seemed  cheerful,  not- 
withstanding his  just  having  come  from  a  scene  of  trouble 
and  distress.  In  place  of  entering  into  a  detailed  descrip- 
tion of  the  fire  which  had  seized  the  house  of  his  aunt,  he 
assured  the  company  that  he  had  established  beyond  doubt 
the  fact  that  the  desk  there  had  been  burned  at  the  very  same 
time  when  theirs  had  been  split  asunder  in  so  strange  a 
manner. 

He  stated,  that,  when  the  fire  approached  the  room  where 
the  desk  was,  one  of  the  servants  saved  a  clock  which  stood 
upon  it ;  that,  in  carrying  it  out,  some  accident  had  happened 
to  the  works,  and  it  had  stopped  at  half-past  eleven ;  and 
thus  the  coincidence  of  time  was  placed  beyond  all  question. 
The  baroness  smiled  ;  and  the  tutor  observed,  that,  although 
two  things  might  agree  in  some  particulars,  we  were  not 
therefore  justified  in  inferring  their  mutual  dependence.  But 
Louisa  took  pleasure  in  believing  the  connection  of  these  two 
circumstances,  particularly  as  she  had  received  intelligence 
that  her  intended  was  quite  well ;  and,  as  to  the  rest  of  the 
company,  they  gave  full  scope  to  the  flight  of  their  imagina- 
tion. 

Charles  inquired  of  the  clergyman  whether  he  knew  a  fairy- 
tale. "The  imagination,"  he  observed,  "is  a  divine  gift; 
but  I  do  not  like  to  see  it  employed  about  the  actualities  of 
life.  The  airy  forms  to  which  it  gives  birth  are  delightful  to 
contemplate,  if  we  view  them  as  beings  of  a  peculiar  order ; 
but,  connected  with  truth,  they  become  prodigies,  and  are  dis- 
approved by  our  reason  and  judgment.  The  imagiuatiou," 
he  continued,  "  should  not  deal  in  facts,  nor  be  employed  to 
establish  facts.  Its  proper  province  is  art ;  and  there  its 
influence  should  be  like  that  of  music,  which  awakens  our 
emotions,  and  makes  us  forget  the  cause  by  which  they  are 
called  forth." 

"  Continue,"  said  the  old  clergyman,  "  and  explain  still 
further  your  view  of  the  proper  attributes  of  imaginative 


360  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

works.  Another  property  is  essential  to  their  enjoyment,  — 
that  the  exercise  of  imagination  should  be  voluntary.  It  can 
effect  nothing  by  compulsion :  it  must  wait  for  the  moment 
of  inspiration.  Without  design,  and  without  any  settled 
course,  it  soars  aloft  upon  its  own  pinions,  and,  as  it  is  borne 
forward,  leaves  a  trace  of  its  wonderful  and  devious  course. 
But  you  must  allow  me  to  take  my  accustomed  walk,  that  I 
may  awaken  in  my  soul  the  sweet  fancies  which,  in  former 
years,  were  accustomed  to  enchant  me.  I  promise  to  relate 
a  fairy-tale  this  evening  that  will  amuse  you  all. 

They  at  once  consented,  particularly  as  they  all  hoped  in 
the  mean  time  to  hear  the  news  of  which  Frederick  was  the 
bearer. 


A  FAIRY  TALE. 

WEARIED  with  the  labors  of  the  day,  an  old  Ferryman  lay 
asleep  in  his  hut,  on  the  bank  of  a  wide  river,  which  the  late 
heavy  rains  had  swollen  to  an  unprecedented  height.  In 
the  middle  of  the  night  he  was  awakened  by  a  loud  cry :  he 
listened  ;  it  was  the  call  of  some  travellers  who  wished  to  be 
ferried  over. 

Upon  opening  the  door,  he  was  surprised  to  see  two  Will- 
o'-the-wisps  dancing  round  his  boat,  which  was  still  secured 
to  its  moorings.  Speaking  with  human  voices,  they  assured 
him  that  they  were  in  the  greatest  possible  hurry,  and  wished 
to  be  carried  instantly  to  the  other  side  of  the  river.  With- 
out losing  a  moment,  the  old  Ferryman  pushed  off,  and  rowed 
across  with  his  usual  dexterity.  During  the  passage  the 
strangers  whispered  together  in  an  unknown  language,  and 
several  times  burst  into  loud  laughter ;  whilst  they  amused 
themselves  with  dancing  upon  the  sides  and  seats  of  the  boat, 
and  cutting  fantastic  capers  at  the  bottom. 

"  The  boat  reels,"  cried  the  old  man  ;  "  and,  if  you  con- 
tinue so  restless,  it  may  upset.  Sit  down,  you  Will-o'-the- 
wisps." 

They  burst  into  loud  laughter  at  this  command,  ridiculed 
the  boatman,  and  became  more  troublesome  than  ever.  But 
he  bore  their  annoyance  patiently,  and  they  soon  reached  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  river. 

"Here  is  something  for  your  trouble,"  said  the  passen- 


THE  GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  361 

gers,  shaking  themselves,  when  a  number  of  glittering  gold 
pieces  fell  into  the  boat.  "  What  are  you  doing?  "  cried  the 
old  man  :  "  some  misfortune  will  happen  should  a  single  piece 
of  gold  fall  into  the  water.  The  river,  which  has  a  strong 
antipathy  to  gold,  would  become  fearfully  agitated,  and  swal- 
low both  me  and  my  boat.  Who  can  say  even  what  might 
happen  to  yourselves?  I  pray  you  take  back  your  gold." 

''We  can  take  nothing  back  which  we  have  once  shaken 
from  our  persons,"  answered  one  of  them. 

"  Then,  I  shall  be  compelled,"  replied  the  old  boatman,  as 
he  stooped,  and  collected  the  gold  in  his  cap,  "  to  take  it  to 
the  shore  and  bury  it." 

The  Will-o'-the-wisps  had  in  the  mean  time  leaped  out  of 
the  boat,  upon  which  the  old  man  cried,  "Pay  me  my  fare." 

"The  man  who  refuses  gold  must  work  for  nothing," 
answered  the  Will-o'-the-wisps. 

"My  payment  must  consist  of  fruits  of  the  earth,"  re- 
joined the  Ferryman. 

"Fruits  of  the  earth?  We  despise  them:  they  are  not 
food  for  us." 

"But  you  shall  not  depart,"  replied  the  Ferryman,  "  till 
you  have  given  me  three  cauliflowers,  three  artichokes,  and 
three  large  onions." 

The  Will-o'-the-wisps  were  in  the  act  of  running  away, 
with  a  laugh,  when  they  felt  themselves  in  some  inexplicable 
manner  fixed  to  the  earth :  they  had  never  experienced  so 
strange  a  sensation.  They  then  promised  to  pay  the  demand 
without  delay,  upon  which  the  Ferryman  released  them,  and 
instantly  pushed  off  with  his  boat. 

He  was  already  far  awa}r,  when  they  called  after  him, 
"Old  man!  listen:  we  have  forgotten  something  impor- 
tant;" but  he  heard  them  not,  and  continued  his  course. 
When  he  had  reached  a  point  lower  down,  on  the  same  side 
of  the  river,  he  came  to  some  rocks  which  the  water  was 
unable  to  reach,  and  proceeded  to  bury  the  dangerous  gold. 
Observing  a  deep  cleft  which  opened  between  two  rocks,  he 
threw  the  gold  into  it,  and  returned  to  his  dwelling.  This 
cleft  was  inhabited  by  a  beautiful  green  Dragon,  who  was 
awakened  from  her  sleep  by  the  sound  of  the  falling  money. 
At  the  very  first  appearance  of  the  glittering  pieces,  she 
devoured  them  greedily,  then  searched  about  carefully  in 
hopes  of  finding  such  other  coins  as  might  have  fallen  acci- 
dentally amongst  the  briers,  or  between  the  fissures  of  the 
rocks. 


362  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

The  Dragon  immediately  felt  overpowered  with  the  most 
delightful  sensations,  and  perceived  with  joy  that  she  became 
suddenly  shining  and  transparent.  She  had  been  long  aware 
that  this  change  was  possible  ;  but,  entertaining  some  doubt 
whether  the  brilliance  would  continue,  she  felt  impelled  by 
curiosity  to  leave  her  dwelling,  and  ascertain,  if  possible,  to 
whom  she  was  indebted  for  the  beautiful  gold.  She  found 
no  one ;  but  she  became  lost  in  admiration  of  herself,  and 
of  the  brilliant  light  which  illumined  her  path  through  the 
thick  underwood,  and  shed  its  rays  over  the  surrounding 
green.  The  leaves  of  the  trees  glittered  like  emeralds,  and 
the  flowers  shone  with  glorious  hues.  In  vain  did  she  pene- 
trate the  solitary  wilderness ;  but  hope  dawned  when  she 
reached  the  plains,  and  observed  at  a  distance  a  light  resem- 
bling her  own.  "Have  I  at  last  discovered  my  fellow?" 
she  exclaimed,  and  hastened  to  the  spot.  She  found  no 
obstacle  from  bog  or  morass ;  for  though  the  dry  meadow 
and  the  high  rock  were  her  dearest  habitations,  and  though 
she  loved  to  feed  upon  the  spicy  root,  and  to  quench  her 
thirst  with  the  crystal  dew,  and  with  fresh  water  from  the 
spring,  yet,  for  the  sake  of  her  beloved  gold  and  of  her  glo- 
rious light,  she  was  willing  to  encounter  every  privation. 

Wearied  and  exhausted,  she  reached  at  length  the  confines 
of  a  wide  morass,  where  our  two  Will-o'-the-wisps  were 
amusing  themselves  in  playing  fantastic  antics.  She  made 
towards  them,  and,  saluting  them,  expressed  her  delight  at 
being  able  to  claim  relationship  with  such  charming  person- 
ages. The  lights  played  around  her,  skipped  from  side  to 
side,  and  laughed  about  in  their  own  peculiar  fashion. 
"  Dear. aunt !  "  they  exclaimed,  "  what  does  it  signify,  even 
though  you  are  of  horizontal  form  ?  we  are  related  at  least 
through  brilliancy.  But  look  how  well  a  tall,  slender  figure 
becomes  us  gentry  of  the  vertical  shape;"  and,  so  saying, 
both  the  lights  compressed  their  breadth  together,  and  shot 
up  into  a  thin  and  pointed  line.  "  Do  not  be  offended,  dear 
friend,"  they  continued;  "but  what  family  can  boast  of  a 
privilege  like  ours?  Since  the  first  Will-o'-the-wisp  was 
created,  none  of  our  race  have  ever  been  obliged  to  sit 
down  or  to  take  repose." 

But  all  this  time  the  feelings  of  the  Dragon  in  the  presence 
of  her  relations  were  any  thing  but  pleasant :  for,  exalt  her 
head  as  high  as  she  would,  she  was  compelled  to  stoop  to 
earth  again  when  she  wished  to  advance  ;  and,  though  she 
was  proud  of  the  brilliancy  which  she  shed  round  her  own 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  363 

dark  abode,  she  felt  her  light  gradually  diminish  in  the  pres- 
ence of  her  relatives,  and  began  to  fear  that  it  might  finally 
be  extinguished. 

In  her  perplexity  she  hastily  inquired  whether  the  gentle- 
men could  inform  her  whence  the  shining  gold  had  come, 
which  had  lately  fallen  into  the  cleft  of  the  rocks  hard  by  ;  as 
in  her  opinion  it  was  a  precious  shower  from  heaven.  The 
Will-o'-the-wisps  immediately  shook  themselves  (at  the  same 
time  laughing  loudly),  and  a  deluge  of  gold  pieces  at  once 
flowed  around.  The  Dragon  devoured  them  greedily.  "  We 
hope  you  like  them,  dear  aunt,"  shouted  the  shining  Will-o'- 
the-wisps  ;  "we  can  supply  you  with  any  quantity:"  and 
they  shook  themselves  with  such  copious  effect,  that  the 
Dragon  found  it  difficult  to  swallow  the  bright  dainties  with 
sufficient  speed.  Her  brilliancy  increased  as  the  gold  disap- 
peared, till  at  length  she  shone  with  inconceivable  radiance ; 
while  in  the  same  proportion  the  Will-o'-the-wisps  grew  thin 
and  tapering,  without,  however,  losing  the  smallest  iota  of 
their  cheerful  humor. 

"  I  am  under  eternal  obligations  to  you,"  said  the  Dragon, 
pausing  to  breathe  from  her  voracious  meal :  ' '  ask  of  me 
what  you  please ;  I  will  give  you  any  thing  you  de- 
mand." 

"  A  bargain  !  "  answered  the  Will-o'-the-wisp  :  "  tell  us, 
then,  where  the  beautiful  Lily  dwells.  Lead  us  to  her  palace 
and  gardens  without  delay :  we  die  of  impatience  to  cast 
ourselves  at  her  feet." 

"  You  ask  a  favor,"  replied  the  Dragon,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
"which  it  is  not  in  my  power  so  quickly  to  bestow.  The 
beautiful  Lily  lives,  unfortunately,  on  the  opposite  bank  of 
the  river.  We  cannot  cross  over  on  this  stormy  night." 

' '  Cruel  river,  which  separates  us  from  the  object  of  our 
desires  !  But  cannot  we  call  back  the  old  Ferryman  ? ' '  said 
they. 

"  Your  wish  is  vain,"  answered  the  Dragon:  "  for,  even 
were  you  to  meet  him  on  this  bank,  he  would  refuse  to  take 
you  ;  as,  though  he  can  convey  passengers  to  this  side  of  the 
stream,  he  can  carry  no  one  back." 

"Bad  news,  indeed!  but  are  there  no  other  means  of 
crossing  the  river?" 

"  There  are,  but  not  at  this  moment :  I  myself  can  take 
you  over  at  mid-day. ' ' 

"•  That  is  an  hour,"  replied  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  "  when 
we  do  not  usually  travel." 


364  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

"  Then,  you  had  better  postpone  your  intention  till  evening, 
when  you  may  cross  in  the  Giant's  shadow." 

"  How  is  that  managed?  "  they  inquired. 

"  The  Giant,"  replied  the  Dragon,  "  who  lives  haixl  by,  is 
powerless  with  his  body :  his  hands  are  incapable  of  raising 
even  a  straw,  his  shoulders  can  bear  no  burden ;  but  his 
shadow  accomplishes  all  for  him.  For  this  reason  he  is 
most  powerful  at  sunrise  and  at  simset.  At  the  hour  of 
evening  the  Giant  will  approach  the  river  softly  ;  and,  if  you 
place  yourself  upon  his  shadow,  it  will  carry  you  over. 
Meet  me  at  mid-clay,  at  the  corner  of  the  wood,  where  the 
trees  hang  over  the  river,  when  I  myself  will  take  you  across, 
and  introduce  you  to  the  beautiful  Lily.  Should  you,  how- 
ever, shrink  from  the  noonday  heat,  your  only  alternative 
is  to  apply  to  the  Giant,  when  evening  casts  its  shadows 
around ;  and  he  will  no  doubt  prove  obliging." 

With  a  graceful  salutation  the  young  gentlemen  took  their 
leave  ;  and  the  Dragon  rejoiced  at  their  departure,  partly  that 
she  might  indulge  her  feelings  of  pleasure  at  her  own  light, 
and  partly  that  she  might  satisfy  a  curiosity  by  which  she 
had  long  been  tormented. 

In  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  where  she  dwelt,  she  had  lately 
made  a  wonderful  discovery ;  for,  although  she  had  been 
obliged  to  crawl  through  these  chasms  in  darkness,  she  had 
learned  to  distinguish  every  object  by  feeling.  The  produc- 
tions of  Nature,  which  she  was  accustomed  everywhere  to 
encounter,  were  all  of  an  irregular  kind.  At  one  time  she 
wound  her  way  amongst  the  points  of  enormous  crystals,  at 
another  she  was  for  a  moment  impeded  by  the  veins  of  solid 
silver,  and  many  were  the  precious  stones  which  her  light 
discovered  to  her.  But,  to  her  great  astonishment,  she  had 
encountered  in  a  rock,  which  was  securely  closed  on  all  sides, 
objects  which  betrayed  the  plastic  hand  of  man.  Smooth 
walls,  which  she  was  unable  to  ascend  ;  sharp,  regular  angles, 
tapering  columns ;  and,  what  was  even  more  wonderful, 
human  figures,  round  which  she  had  often  entwined  herself, 
and  which  appeared  to  her  to  be  formed  of  brass  or  of  pol- 
ished marble.  She  was  now  anxious  to  behold  all  these  ob- 
jects with  her  eyes,  and  to  confirm,  b}T  her  own  observation, 
what  she  had  hitherto  but  suspected.  She  now  thought 
herself  capable  of  illumining  with  her  own  light  these  won- 
derful subterranean  caverns,  and  indulged  the  hope  of 
becoming  thoroughly  acquainted  with  these  astonishing 
mysteries.  She  delayed  not,  and  quickly  found  the  opening 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  365 

through  which  she  was  accustomed  to  penetrate  into  the 
sanctuary. 

Arrived  at  the  place,  she  looked  round  with  wonder;  and 
though  her  brilliancy  was  unable  to  light -the  entire  cavern, 
yet  many  of  the  objects  were  sufficiently  distinct.  With 
astonishment  and  awe,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  an  illumined 
niche,  in  which  stood  the  statue  of  a  venerable  King,  of  pure 
gold.  In  size  the  statue  was  colossal,  but  the  figure  was 
rather  that  of  a  little  than  of  a  great  man.  His  well-turned 
limbs  were  covered  with  a  simple  robe,  and  his  head  was 
encircled  by  an  oaken  garland. 

Scarcely  had  the  Dragon  beheld  this  venerable  form,  when 
the  King  found  utterance,  and  said,  "How  comest  thou 
hither?  " 

"Through  the  cleft,"  answered  the  Dragon,  "in  which 
the  gold  abides." 

"  What  is  nobler  than  gold?  "  asked  the  King. 

"  Light,"  replied  the  Dragon. 

"And  what  is  more  vivid  than  light?"  continued  the 
Monarch. 

"  Speech,"  said  the  Serpent. 

During  this  conversation  the  Dragon  had  looked  stealthily 
around,  and  observed  another  noble  statue  in  an  adjoining 
niche.  A  silver  King  sat  there  enthroned,  of  figure  tall  and 
slender :  his  limbs  were  enveloped  in  an  embroidered  mantle  ; 
his  crown  and  sceptre  were  adorned  with  precious  stones ; 
his  countenance  wore  the  serene  dignity  of  pride ;  and  he 
seemed  about  to  speak,  when  a  dark  vein,  which  ran  through 
the  marble  of  the  wall,  suddenly  became  brilliant,  and  cast  a 
soft  light  through  the  whole  temple.  This  light  discovered 
a  third  King,  whose  mighty  form  was  cast  in  brass  :  he  leaned 
upon  a  massive  club,  his  head  was  crowned  with  laurels  ;  and 
his  proportions  resembled  a  rock  rather  than  a  human  being. 

The  Dragon  felt  a  desire  to  approach  a  fourth  King,  who 
stood  before  her  at  a  distance  ;  but  the  wall  suddenly  opened, 
the  illumined  vein  flashed  like  lightning,  and  became  as  sud- 
denly extinguished. 

A  man  of  middle  stature  now  approached.  He  was  clad 
in  the  garb  of  a  peasant :  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  lamp,  the 
flame  of  which  it  was  delightful  to  behold,  and  which  light- 
ened the  entire  dwelling,  without  leaving  the  trace  of  a 
shadow. 

"Why  dost  thou  come,  since  we  have  already  light?" 
asked  the  Golden  King. 


366  THE  RECREATIONS   OF 

"  You  know  that  I  can  shed  no  ray  on  what  is  dark," 
replied  the  old  man. 

"•Will  my  kingdom  end?"  inquired  the  Silver  Monarch. 

44  Late  or  never,"  answered  the  other. 

The  Brazen  King  then  asked,  with  voice  of  thunder, 
"When  shall  I  arise?" 

44  Soon,"  was  the  reply. 

44  With  whom  shall  I. be  united?"  continued  the  former. 

4k  With  thine  elder  brother,"  answered  the  latter. 

44  And  what  will  become  of  the  youngest?  " 

44  He  will  repose." 

4'  I  am  not  weary,"  interrupted  the  fourth  King,  with  a 
deep  but  faltering  voice. 

During  this  conversation  the  Dragon  had  wound  her  way 
softly  through  the  temple,  surveyed  every  thing  which  it  con- 
tained, and  approached  the  niche  in  which  the  fourth  King 
stood.  He  leaned  against  a  pillar,  and  his  handsome  coun- 
tenance bore  traces  of  melancholy.  It  was  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish the  metal  of  which  the  statue  was  composed.  It 
resembled  a  mixture  of  the  three  metals  of  which  his  brothers 
were  formed,  but  it  seemed  as  if  the  materials  had  not 
thoroughly  blended ;  as  the  veins  of  gold  and  silver  crossed 
each  other  irregularly  through  the  brazen  mass,  and  destroyed 
the  effect  of  the  whole. 

The  Golden  King  now  asked,  "How  many  secrets  dost 
thou  know  ? ' ' 

44  Three,"  was  the  reply. 

44  And  which  is  the  most  important?  "  inquired  the  Silver 
King. 

"  The  revealed,"  answered  the  old  man. 

44  Wilt  thou  explain  it  to  us?  "  asked  the  Brazen  King. 

"  When  I  have  learned  the  fourth,"  was  the  response. 

44 1  care  not,"  murmured  he  of  the  strange  compound. 

"  I  know  the  fourth,"  interrupted  the  Dragon,  approach- 
ing the  old  man,  and  whispering  in  his  ear. 

"  The  time  is  come,"  exclaimed  the  latter,  with  tremendous 
voice.  The  sounds  echoed  through  the  temple ;  the  statues 
rang  again  :  and  in  the  same  instant  the  old  man  disappeared 
towards  the  west,  and  the  Dragon  towards  the  east ;  and 
both  pierced  instantly  through  the  impediments  of  the  rock. 

Every  passage  through  which  the  old  man  bent  his  course 
became  immediately  filled  with  gold  ;  for  the  lamp  which  he 
carried  possessed  the  wonderful  property  of  converting  stones 
into  gold,  wood  into  silver,  and  dead  animals  into  jewels. 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  367 

But,  in  order  to  produce  this  effect,  it  was  necessary  that  no 
other  light  should  be  near.  In  the  presence  of  another 
light  the  lamp  merely  emitted  a  soft  illumination,  which, 
however,  gave  joy  to  every  living  thing. 

The  old  man  returned  to  his  hut  on  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
and  found  his  wife  in  the  greatest  sorrow.  She  was  seated 
at  the  fire,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears ;  and  she  refused  all 
consolation. 

"  What  a  misfortune,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  I  allowed 
you  to  leave  home  to-day  !  " 

"What  has  happened  ?  "  answered  the  old  man,  very  quietly. 

"  You  were  scarcely  gone,"  replied  she  with  sobs,  "  before 
two  rude  travellers  came  to  the  door :  unfortunately  I  admit- 
ted them  ;  as  they  seemed  good,  worthy  people.  They  were 
attired  like  flames,  and  might  have  passed  for  Will-o'-the- 
wisps  ;  but  they  had  scarcely  entered  the  house  before  they 
commenced  their  flatteries,  and  became  at  length  so  impor- 
tunate that  I  blush  to  recollect  their  conduct." 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  man,  smiling,  "  the  gentlemen  were 
only  amusing  themselves  ;  and,  at  your  age,  you  should  have 
considered  it  as  the  display  of  ordinary  politeness." 

"  My  age !  "  rejoined  the  old  woman.  "  Will  you  forever 
remind  me  of  my  age?  how  old  am  I,  then?  And  ordinary 
politeness !  But  I  can  tell  you  something :  look  round  at 
the  walls  of  our  hut :  you  will  now  be  able  to  see  the  old 
stones,  which  have  been  concealed  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years.  These  visitors  extracted  all  the  gold  more  quickly 
than  I  can  tell  you,  and  they  assured  me  that  it  was  of  capital 
flavor.  When  they  had  completely  cleared  the  walls,  they 
grew  cheerful ;  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  their  persons  became 
tall,  broad,  and  shining.  They  thereupon  again  commenced 
their  tricks,  and  repeated  their  flatteries,  calling  me  a  queen. 
They  shook  themselves,  and  immediately  a  profusion  of  gold 
pieces  fell  on  all  sides.  You  may  see  some  of  them  still 
glittering  on  the  floor ;  but  a  calamity  soon  occurred.  Out 
dog  Mops  swallowed  some  of  them  ;  and.  see  !  he  lies  dead  in 
the  chimney-corner.  Poor  animal !  his  death  afflicts  me.  I 
rlid  not  observe  it  till  they  had  departed,  otherwise  I  should 
not  have  promised  to  pay  the  Ferryman  the  debt  they  owed 
him." 

"  How  mucti  do  they  owe?  "  inquired  the  old  man. 

"Three  cauliflowers,"  answered  his  wife,  "three  arti- 
chokes, and  three  onions.  I  have  promised  to  take  them  to 
the  river  at  break  of  clav." 


368  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

"  You  had  better  oblige  them,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and 
they  may  perhaps  serve  us  in  time  of  need/' 

lk  I  know  not  if  the}-  will  keep  their  word,"  said  she,  "  but 
they  promised  and  vowed  to  serve  us." 

The  fire  had,  in  the  mean  time,  died  away  ;  but  the  old  man 
covered  the  cinders  with  ashes,  put  away  the  shining  gold 
pieces,  and  lighted  his  lamp  afresh.  In  the  glorious  illumi- 
nation the  walls  became  covered  with  gold,  and  Mops  was 
transformed  into  the  most  beautiful  onyx  that  was  ever  be- 
held. The  variety  of  color  which  glittered  through  the  costly 
gem  produced  a  splendid  effect. 

"  Take  your  basket,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  place  the 
onyx  in  it.  Then  collect  the  tkree  cauliflowers,  the  three 
artichokes,  and  the  three  onions,  lay  them  together,  and 
carry  them  to  the  river.  The  Dragon  will  bear  you  across  at 
mid-day :  then  visit  the  beautiful  Lily ;  her  touch  will  give 
life  to  the  onyx,  as  her  touch  gives  death  to  every  living 
thing  ;  and  it  will  be  to  her  an  affectionate  friend.  Tell  her 
not  to  mourn ;  that  her  deliverance  is  nigh ;  that  she  must 
consider  a  great  misfortune  as  her  greatest  blessing,  for  the 
time  is  come." 

The  old  woman  prepared  her  basket,  and  set  forth  at  break 
of  day.  The  rising  sun  shone  brightly  over  the  river,  which 
gleamed  in  the  far  distance.  The  old  woman  journeyed 
slowly  on,  for  the  weight  of  the  basket  oppressed  her ;  but  it 
did  not  arise  from  the  onyx.  Nothing  lifeless  proved  a 
burden  ;  for,  when  the  basket  contained  dead  things,  it  rose 
aloft,  and  floated  over  her  head.  But  a  fresh  vegetable,  or 
the  smallest  living  creature,  induced  fatigue.  She  had  toiled 
along  for  some  distance,  when  she  started,  and  suddenly  stood 
still ;  for  she  had  nearly  placed  her  foot  upon  the  shadow  of 
the  Giant,  which  was  advancing  towards  her  from  the  plain. 
Her  eye  now  perceived  his  monstrous  bulk :  he  had  just 
bathed  in  the  river,  and  was  coming  out  of  the  water.  She 
knew  not  how  to  avoid  him.  He  saw  her,  saluted  her  jest- 
ingly, and  thrust  the  hand  of  his  shadow  into  her  basket. 
With  dexterity  he  stole  a  cauliflower,  an  artichoke,  and  an 
onion,  and  raised  them  to  his  mouth.  He  then  proceeded  on 
his  course  up  the  stream,  and  left  the  woman  alone. 

She  considered  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  return,  and 
supply  the  missing  vegetables  from  her  own  garden  ;  and, 
lost  in  these  reflections,  she  went  on  her  way  until  she  ar- 
rived at  the  bank  of  the  river.  She  sat  down,  and  awaited 
for  a  long  time  the  arrival  of  the  Ferryman.  He  appeared 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  369 

at  length,  having  in  his  boat  a  traveller  whose  air  was  mys- 
terious. A  handsome  youth,  of  noble  aspect,  stepped  on 
shore. 

"  What  have  you  brought  with  you? "  said  the  old  man. 

"The  vegetables,"  replied  the  woman,  "  which  the  Will- 
o'-the-wisps  owe  you;"  pointing  to  the  contents  of  her 
basket. 

But  when  he  found  that  there  were  but  two  of  each  kind, 
he  became  angry,  and  refused  to  take  them. 

The  woman  implored  him  to  relent,  assuring  him  that  she 
could  not  then  return  home ;  as  she  had  found  her  burden 
heavy,  and  she  had  still  a  long  way  to  go.  But  he  was  obsti- 
nate, maintaining  that  the  decision  did  not  depend  upon  him. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  collect  my  gains  for  nine  hours,"  said 
he,  "  and  I  can  keep  nothing  for  myself  till  I  have  paid  a 
third  part  to  the  river." 

At  length,  after  much  contention,  he  told  her  there  was 
still  a  remedy. 

"  If  you  give  security  to  the  river,  and  acknowledge  your 
debt,  I  will  take  the  six  articles ;  though  such  a  course  is  not 
devoid  of  danger. 

"  But,  if  I  keep  my  word,  I  incur  no  risk,"  she  said  ear- 
nestly. 

"  Not  the  least,"  he  replied.  "  Thrust  your  hand  into  the 
river,  and  promise  that  within  four  and  twenty  hours  you  will 
pay  the  debt." 

The  old  woman  complied,  but  shuddered  as  she  observed 
that  her  hand,  on  drawing  it  out  of  the  water,  had  become 
as  black  as  a  coal.  She  scolded  angrily  ;  exclaiming  that 
her  hands  had  always  been  most  beautiful,  and  that,  not- 
withstanding her  hard  work,  she  had  ever  kept  them  white 
and  delicate.  She  gazed  at  her  hand  with  the  greatest  alarm, 
and  exclaimed,  "This  is  still  worse :  it  has  shrunk,  and  is 
alreadj'  much  smaller  than  the  other !  " 

"It  only  appears  so  now,"  said  the  Ferryman;  "but,  if 
you  break  your  word,  it  will  be  so  in  realit}-.  Your  hand  will 
in  that  case  grow  smaller,  and  finally  disappear ;  though  you 
will  still  preserve  the  use  of  it." 

"  I  would  rather,"  she  replied,  "  lose  it  altogether,  and  that 
my  misfortune  should  be  concealed.  But  no  matter,  I  will 
keep  my  word,  to  escape  this  black  disgrace,  and  avoid  so 
much  anxiety."  Whereupon  she  took  her  basket,  which  rose 
aloft,  and  floated  freely  over  her  head.  She  hastened  after 
the  youth,  who  was  walking  thoughtfully  along  the  bank. 


370  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

His  noble  figure  and  peculiar  attire  had  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  her  mind. 

His  breast  was  covered  with  a  shining  cuirass,  whose  trans- 
parency permitted  the  motions  of  his  graceful  form  to  be 
seen.  From  his  shoulders  hung  a  purple  mantle,  and  his  au- 
burn locks  waved  in  beautiful  curls  round  his  uncovered  head. 
His  noble  countenance  and  his  well-turned  feet  were  exposed 
to  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun.  Thus  did  he  journey  pa- 
tiently over  the  hot  sand,  which,  "true  to  one  sorrow,  he 
trod  without  feeling." 

The  garrulous  old  woman  sought  to  engage  him  in  conver- 
sation ;  but  he  heeded  her  not,  or  answered  briefly,  until,  not- 
withstanding his  beauty,  she  became  weary,  and  took  leave  of 
him,  saying,  "You  are  too  slow  for  me,  sir;  and  I  cannot 
lose  my  time,  as  I  am  anxious  to  cross  the  river,  with  tha 
assistance  of  the  Green  Dragon,  and  to  present  the  beautiful 
Lily  with  my  husband's  handsome  present."  So  saying,  she 
left  him  speedily,  upon  which  the  youth  took  heart,  and  fol- 
lowed her  without  delay. 

' '  You  are  going  to  the  beautiful  Lily !  "  he  exclaimed : 
"  if  so,  our  way  lies  together.  What  present  are  you  taking 
her?" 

"Sir,"  answered  the  woman,  "it  is  not  fair  that  you 
should  so  earnestly  inquire  after  my  secrets,  when  you  paid  so 
little  attention  to  my  questions.  But,  if  you  will  relate  your 
history  to  me,  I  will  tell  }*ou  all  about  my  present." 

They  made  the  bargain  :  the  woman  told  her  story,  includ- 
ing the  account  of  the  dog,  and  allowed  him  to  view  the 
beautiful  onyx. 

He  lifted  the  beautiful  precious  stone  from  the  basket,  and 
took  Mops,  who  seemed  to  slumber  softly,  in  his  arms. 

"Fortunate  animal !  "  he  exclaimed  :  "  you  will  be  touched 
by  her  soft  hands,  and  restored  to  life,  in  place  of  fleeing 
from  her  contact,  like  all  other  living  things,  to  escape  an 
evil  doom.  But,  alas;!  what  words  are  these?  Is  it  not  a 
sadder  and  more  fearful  fate  to  be  annihilated  by  her  pres- 
ence than  to  die  by  her  hand?  Behold  me,  thus  young,  what 
a  melancholy  destiny  is  mine  !  This  armor,  which  I  have 
borne  with  glory  in  the  battle-broil ;  this  purple,  which  I  have 
earned  by  the  wisdom  cf  my  government,  —  have  been  con- 
verted by  Fate,  the  one  into  an  unceasing  burden,  the  other 
into  an  empty  honor.  Crown,  sceptre,  and  sword  are  worth- 
less. I  am  now  as  naked  and  destitute  as  every  other  son  of 
clay.  For  such  is  the  spell  of  her  beautiful  blue  eyes,  that 


THE   GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  371 

they  waste  the  vigor  of  every  living  creature ;  and  those 
whom  the  contact  of  her  hand  does  not  destroy  are  reduced 
to  the  condition  of  breathing  shadows." 

Thus  he  lamented  long,  but  without  satisfying  the  curiosity 
of  the  old  woman,  who  sought  information  respecting  both 
his  mental  and  his  bodily  sufferings.  She  learned  neither 
the  name  of  his  father  nor  his  kingdom.  He  stroked  the 
rigid  Mops,  to  whom  the  beams  of  the  sun  and  the  caresses 
of  the  youth  had  imparted  warmth.  He  inquired  earnestly 
about  the  man  with  the  lamp,  about  the  effect  of  the  myste- 
rious light,  and  seemed  to  expect  thence  great  relief  from  his 
deep  sorrow. 

So  discoursing,  they  observed  at  a  distance  the  majestic 
arch  of  the  bridge,  which  stretched  from  one  bank  of  the 
river  to  the  other,  and  shone  splendidly  in  the  beams  of  the 
sun.  Both  were  astonished  at  the  sight,-  as  they  had  never 
before  seen  it  so  resplendent. 

"  What !  "  cried  the  Prince,  "  was  it  not  sufficiently  beau- 
tiful before,  with  its  decorations  of  jasper  and  opal?  Can 
we  now  dare  to  pass  over  it,  constructed  as  it  is  of  emerald 
and  chrysolite  of  varied  beauty?  " 

Neither  had  any  idea  of  the  change  which  the  Dragon 
had  undergone ;  for  in  truth  it  was  the  Dragon,  whose  cus- 
tom it  was  at  mid-day  to  arch  her  form  across  the  stream, 
and  assume  the  appearance  of  a  beauteous  bridge,  which 
travellers  crossed  with  silent  reverence. 

Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  opposite  bank,  when  the 
bridge  began  to  sway  from  side  to  side,  and  gradually  sank 
to  the  level  of  the  water ;  while  the  Green  Dragon  assumed 
her  accustomed  shape,  and  followed  the  travellers  to  the 
shore.  The  latter  thanked  her  for  her  condescension  in 
allowing  them  a  passage  across  the  stream  ;  observing,  at  the 
same  time,  that  there  were  evidently  more  persons  present 
than  were  actually  visible.  They  heard  a  light  whispering, 
which  the  Dragon  answered  with  a  similar  sound.  They 
listened,  and  heard  the  following  words:  "We  will  first 
make  our  observations  unperceived  in  the  park  of  the  beau- 
tiful Lily,  and  look  for  you,  when  the  shadows  of  evening 
fall,  to  introduce  us  to  such  perfect  beauty.  You  will  find  us 
on  the  bank  of  the  great  lake." 

"Agreed,"  answered  the  Dragon;  and  a  hissing  sound 
died  away  in  the  air. 

Our  three  travellers  further  consulted  with  what  regard  to 
precedence  they  should  appear  before  the  beautiful  Lily ; 


372  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

for,  let  her  visitors  be  never  so  numerous,  they  must  enter 
and  depart  singly  if  they  wished  to  escape  bitter  suffer- 
ing. 

The  woman,  carrying  in  the  basket  the  transformed  dog, 
came  first  to  the  garden,  and  sought  an  interview  with  her 
benefactress.  She  was  easily  found,  as  she  was  then  sing- 
ing to  the  accompaniment  of  her  harp.  The  sweet  tones 
showed  themselves  first  in  the  form  of  circles  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  calm  lake ;  and  then,  like  a  soft  breeze,  they 
imparted  motion  to  the  grass  and  to  the  tremulous  leaves. 
She  was  seated  in  a  secluded  nook  beneath  the  shade  of 
trees,  and  at  the  first  glance  enchanted  the  eyes,  the  ear, 
and  the  heart  of  the  old  woman,  who  advanced  towards  her 
with  rapture,  and  protested  that  since  their  last  meeting  she 
had  become  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Even  from  a  distance 
she  saluted  the  charming  maiden  in  these  words:  "What 
joy  to  be  in  your  presence !  What  a  heaven  surrounds  you  ! 
What  a  spell  proceeds  from  your  lyre,  which,  encircled  by 
your  soft  arms,  and  influenced  by  the  pressure  of  your 
gentle  bosom  and  slender  fingers,  utters  such  entrancing 
melody !  Thrice  happy  the  blessed  youth  who  could  claim 
so  great  a  favor!  " 

So  saying,  she  approached  nearer.  The  beautiful  Lily 
raised  her  eyes,  let  her  hands  drop,  and  said,  "  Do  not 
distress  me  with  your  untimely  praise :  it  makes  me  feel 
even  more  unhappy.  And  see  !  here  is  my  beautiful  canary 
dead  at  my  feet,  which  used  to  accompan}r  my  songs  so 
sweetly :  he  was  accustomed  to  sit  upon  my  harp,  and  was 
carefully  instructed  to  avoid  my  touch.  This  morning,  when, 
refreshed  by  sleep,  I  tuned  a  pleasant  melody,  the  little  war- 
bler sang  with  increased  harmony,  when  suddenly  a  hawk 
soared  above  us.  My  little  bird  sought  refuge  in  my  bosom, 
and  at  that  instant  I  felt  the  last  gasp  of  his  expiring 
breath.  It  is  true  that  the  hawk,  struck  by  my  instanta- 
neous glance,  fell  lifeless  into  the  stream ;  but  what  avails 
this  penalty  to  me?  —  my  darling  is  dead,  and  his  grave 
will  but  add  to  the  number  of  the  weeping  willows  in  my 
garden." 

"Take  courage,  beautiful  Lily,"  interrupted  the  old  woman, 
whilst  at  the  same  moment  she  wiped  away  a  tear  which  the 
narration  of  the  sorrowful  maiden  had  brought  to  her  eye,  — 
"take  courage,  and  learn  from  my  experience  to  moderate 
your  grief.  Great  misfortune  is  often  the  harbinger  of 
intense  joy.  For  the  time  approaches:  but  in  truth,"  con- 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  373 

tinned  she,  '•  'the  web  of  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn.'  See 
my  hand,  how  black  it  has  grown  ;  and,  in  truth,  it  has 
become  much  diminished  in  size :  I  must  be  speedy,  before 
it  be  reduced  to  nothing.  Why  did  I  promise  favors  to  the 
Will-o'-the-wisps,  or  meet  the  Giant,  or  dip  my  hand  into 
the  river?  Can  you  oblige  me  with  a  cauliflower,  an  arti- 
choke, or  an  onion?  I  shall  take  them  to  the  river,  and 
then  my  hand  will  become  so  white  that  it  will  almost  equal 
the  lustre  of  your  own." 

''Cauliflowers  and  onions  abound,  but  artichokes  cannot 
be  procured.  My  garden  produces  neither  flowers  nor  fruit; 
but  every  twig  I  plant  upon  the  grave  of  any  thing  I  love 
bursts  into  leaf  at  once,  and  grows  a  goodly  tree.  Thus, 
beneath  my  eye,  alas !  have  grown  these  clustering  trees 
and  copses.  These  tall  pines,  these  shadowing  cypresses, 
these  mighty  oaks,  these  overhanging  beeches,  were  once 
small  twigs  planted  by  my  hand,  as  sad  memorials,  in  an 
uugenial  soil." 

The  old  woman  paid  but  little  attention  to  this  speech,  but 
was  employed  in  watching  her  hand,  which  in  the  presence 
of  the  beautiful  Lily  became  every  instant  of  a  darker  hue, 
and  grew  gradually  less.  She  was  about  to  take  her  basket 
and  depart,  when  she  felt  that  she  had  forgotten  the  most 
important  of  her  duties.  She  took  the  transformed  dog  in 
her  arms,  and  laid  him  upon  the  grass,  not  far  from  the 
beautiful  Lily.  "  My  husband,"  she  said,  "  sends  you  this 
present.  You  know  that  your  touch  can  impart  life  to  this 
precious  stone.  The  good  and  faithful  animal  will  be  a  joy 
to  you,  and  the  grief  his  loss  causes  me  will  be  alleviated  by 
the  thought  that  he  is  yours." 

The  beautiful  Lily  looked  at  the  pretty  creature  with  de- 
light, and  rapture  beamed  from  her  eyes.  "  Many  things 
combine  to  inspire  me  with  hope  ;  but,  alas  !  is  it  not  a  delus- 
ion of  our  nature  to  expect  that  joy  is  near  when  grief  is 
at  the  worst  ?  ' ' 

"Ah!  what  avail  these  omens  all  so  fair? 
My  sweet  bird's  death,  my  friend's  hands  blackly  dyed, 
And  Mops  transformed  Into  a  jewel  rare, 
Sent  by  the  Lamp  our  faltering  steps  to  guide. 

Far  from  mankind  and  every  joy  I  prize, 
To  grief  and  sorrow  I  am  still  allied: 
When  from  the  river  will  the  temple  rise? 
When  will  the  bridge  span  it  from  side  to  side?" 


374  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

The  old  woman  waited  with  impatience  for  the  conclusion 
of  the  song,  which  the  beautiful  Lily  had  accompanied  with 
her  harp,  entrancing  the  ears  of  every  listener.  She  was 
about  to  say  farewell,  when  the  arrival  of  the  Dragon  com- 
pelled her  to  remain.  She  had  heard  the  last  words  of  the 
song,  and  on  this  account  spoke  words  of  encouragement 
to  the  beautiful  Lily.  "The  prophecy  of  the  bridge  is  ful- 
filled !  "  she  exclaimed :  "  this  good  woman  will  bear  witness 
how  splendidly  the  arch  now  appears.  Formerly  of  untrans- 
parent  jasper,  which  only  reflected  the  light  upon  the  sides, 
it  is  now  converted  into  precious  jewels  of  transparent  hue. 
No  beryl  is  so  bright,  and  no  emerald  so  splendid." 

"  I  congratulate  you  thereupon,"  said  the  Lily,  "  but  par- 
don me  if  I  doubt  whether  the  prediction  is  fulfilled.  Only 
foot-passengers  can  as  yet  cross  the  arch  of  your  bridge ; 
and  it  has  been  foretold  that  horses  and  carriages,  travellers 
of  all  descriptions,  shall  pass  and  repass  in  mingled  multi- 
tudes. Is  prediction  silent  with  respect  to  the  mighty  pillars 
which  are  to  ascend  from  the  river?  " 

The  old  woman,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  immovably  upon 
her  hand,  interrupted  this  speech,  and  bade  farewell. 

"Wait  for  one  moment,"  said  the  beautiful  Lily,  "and 
take  my  poor  canary-bird  with  you.  Implore  the  Lamp  to 
convert  him  into  a  topaz ;  and  I  will  then  re-animate  him 
with  my  touch,  and  he  and  your  good  Mops  will  then  be  my 
greatest  consolation.  But  make  what  speed  you  can ;  for 
with  sunset  decay  will  have  commenced  its  withering  influ- 
ence, marring  the  beauty  of  its  delicate  form." 

The  old  woman  enveloped  the  little  corpse  in  some  soft 
young  leaves,  placed  it  in  the  basket,  and  hastened  from  the 
spot. 

"  Notwithstanding  what  you  say,"  continued  the  Dragon, 
resuming  the  interrupted  conversation,  "  the  temple  is  built." 

"  But  it  does  not  yet  stand  upon  the  river,"  replied  the 
beautiful  Lily. 

"  It  rests  still  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,"  continued  the 
Dragon.  "  I  have  seen  the  Kings,  and  spoken  to  them." 

"  And  when  will  they  awake?  "  inquired  the  Lily. 

The  Dragon  answered,  "  I  heard  the  mighty  voice  resound 
through  the  temple,  announcing  that  the  hour  was  come." 

A  ray  of  joy  beamed  from  the  countenance  of  the  beauti- 
ful Lily  as  she  exclaimed,  "  Do  I  hear  those  words  for  the 
second  time  to-day  ?  When  will  the  hour  arrive  in  which  I 
shall  hear  them  for  the  third  time?  " 


THE  GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  375 

She  rose,  and  immediately  a  beautiful  maiden  came  from 
the  wood,  and  relieved  her  of  her  harp.  She  was  followed 
by  another,  who  took  the  ivory  chair  upon  which  the  beauti- 
ful Lily  had  been  seated,  folded  it  together,  and  carried  it 
away,  together  with  the  silver-tissued  cushion.  The  third 
maiden,  who  bore  in  her  hand  a  fan  inlaid  with  pearls,  ap- 
proached to  tender  her  services  if  they  should  be  needed. 
These  three  maidens  were  lovely  beyond  description,  though 
they  were  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  their  charms  fell 
far  short  of  those  of  their  beautiful  mistress. 

The  beautiful  Lily  had,  in  the  mean  time,  surveyed  the 
marvellous  Mops  with  a  look  of  pleasure.  She  leaned  over 
him,  and  touched  him.  He  instantly  leaped  up,  looked  round 
joyously,  bounded  with  delight,  hastened  to  his  benefactress, 
and  caressed  her  tenderly.  She  took  him  in  her  arms,  and 
pressed  him  to  her  bosom.  "Cold  though  thou  art,"  she 
said,  "  and  endued  with  only  half  a  life,  yet  art  thou  wel- 
come to  me.  I  will  love  thee  fondly,  play  with  thee  sportively, 
kiss  thee  softly,  and  press  thee  to  my  heart."  She  let  him 
go  a  little  from  her,  called  him  back,  chased  him  away  again, 
and  played  with  him  so  joyously  and  innocently,  that  no  one 
could  help  sympathizing  in  her  delight  and  taking  part  in  her 
pleasure,  as  they  had  before  shared  her  sorrow  and  her  woe. 

But  this  happiness  and  this  pleasant  pastime  were  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  the  melancholy  youth.  His  walk 
and  appearance  were  as  we  have  before  described ;  but  he 
seemed  overcome  b}'  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  the  presence 
of  his  beloved  had  rendered  him  perceptibly  paler.  He  bore 
the  hawk  upon  his  wrist,  where  it  sat  with  drooping  wing  as 
tranquil  as  a  dove. 

"  It  is  not  well,"  exclaimed  the  Lily,  "  that  you  should  vex 
my  eyes  with  that  odious  bird,  which  has  only  this  day  mur- 
dered my  little  favorite." 

"Blame  not  the  luckless  bird,"  exclaimed  the  youth  $ 
"  rather  condemn  yourself  and  fate,  and  let  me  find,  an  asso-< 
ciate  in  this  companion  of  my  grief." 

Mops,  in  the  mean  time,  was  incessant  in  his  caresses  ;  an4 
the  Lily  responded  to  his  affection  with  the  most  gentle  tokens 
of  love.  She  clapped  her  hands  to  drive  him  away,  and  then 
sportively  pursued  to  win  him  back.  She  caught  him  in  her 
arms  as  he  tried  to  escape,  and  chased,  him  from  her  when  he 
sought  to  nestle  in  her  lap.  The  youth  looked  on  in  silence 
and  in  sorrow  ;  but  when  at  length  she  took  him  in  her  arm8x 
and  pressed  him  to  her  snowy  breast,  and  kissed  him  with 


376  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

her  heavenly  lips,  he  lost  all  patience,  and  exclaimed  in  the 
depth  of  his  despair,  "And  must  I,  whom  a  sad  destiny 
compels  to  live  in  your  presence,  and  yet  to  be  separated 
from  you,  perhaps  forever,  —  must  I,  who  for  you  have 
forfeited  every  thing,  even  my  own  being,  —  must  I  look  on 
and  behold  this  '  defect  of  nature  '  gain  your  notice,  win 
your  love,  and  enjoy  the  paradise  of  your  embrace:'  Must  I 
continue  to  wander  and  measure  my  solitary  way  along  the 
banks  of  this  stream  ?  No  !  a  spark  of  my  former  spirit  still 
burns  within  my  bosom.  Oh  that  it  would  for  the  last 
time  mount  into  .a  flame !  If  stones  may  repose  within 
your  bosom,  then  let  me  be  converted  to  a  stone ;  and, 
if  your  touch  can  kill,  I  am  content  to  receive  my  death 
at  your  hands." 

He  became  violently  excited ;  the  hawk  flew  from  his 
wrist ;  he  rushed  towards  the  beautiful  Lily ;  she  extended 
her  arms  to  forbid  his  approach,  and  touched  him  undesign- 
edly.  His  consciousness  immediately  forsook  him,  and  with 
dismay  she  felt  the  beautiful  burden  lean  for  support  upon 
her  breast.  She  started  back  with  a  scream,  and  the  fair 
youth  sank  lifeless  from  her  arms  to  the  earth. 

The  deed  was  done.  The  sweet  Lily  stood  motionless,  and 
gazed  intently  on  the  breathless  corpse.  Her  heart  ceased 
to  beat,  and  her  eyes  were  bedewed  with  tears.  In  vain  did 
Mops  seek  to  win  her  attention :  the  whole  world  had  died 
out  with  her  lost  friend.  Her  dumb  despair  sought  no  help, 
for  help  was  now  in  vain. 

But  the  Dragon  became  immediately  more  active.  Her 
mind  seemed  occupied  with  thoughts  of  rescue  ;  and,  in  truth, 
her  mysterious  movements  prevented  the  immediate  conse- 
quence of  this  dire  misfortune.  She  wound  her  serpentine 
form  in  a  wide  circle  round  the  spot  where  the  body  lay, 
seized  the  end  of  her  tail  between  her  teeth,  and  remained 
motionless. 

In  a  few  moments  one  of  the  servants  of  the  beautiful  Lily 
approached,  carrying  the  ivory  chair,  and  with  friendly  en- 
treaties compelled  her  mistress  to  be  seated.  Then  came  a 
second,  bearing  a  flame-colored  veil,  with  which  she  rather 
adorned  than  covered  the  head  of  the  Lily.  A  third  maiden 
offered  her  the  harp  ;  and  scarcely  had  she  struck  the  chords, 
and  awakened  their  delicious  tones,  when  the  first  maiden 
returned,  having  in  her  hands  a  circular  mirror  of  lustrous 
brightness,  placed  herself  opposite  the  Lily,  intercepted  her 
looks,  and  reflected  the  most  enchanting  countenance  which 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  377 

nature  could  fashion.  Her  sorrow  added  lustre  to  her  beauty, 
the  veil  heightened  her  charms,  the  harp  lent  her  a  new 
grace  ;  and,  though  it  was  impossible  not  to  hope  that  her  sad 
fate  might  soon  undergo  a  change,  one  could  almost  wish 
that  that  lovely  and  enchanting  vision  might  last  for- 
ever. 

Silently  gazing  upon  the  mirror,  she  drew  melting  tones  of 
music  from  her  harp ;  but  her  sorrow  appeared  to  increase, 
and  the  chords  responded  to  her  melancholy  mood.  Once 
or  twice  she  opened  her  lips  to  sing,  but  her  voice  refused 
utterance  ;  whereupon  her  grief  found  refuge  in  tears.  Her 
two  attendants  supported  her  in  their  arms,  and  the  harp  fell 
from  her  hands  ;  but  the  watchful  attention  of  her  handmaid 
caught  it,  and  laid  it  aside. 

"  Who  will  fetch  the  man  with  the  lamp?  "  whispered  the 
Dragon  in  low  but  audible  voice.  The  maidens  looked  at 
each  other,  and  the  Lily's  tears  fell  faster. 

At  this  instant  the  old  woman  with  the  basket  returned 
breathless  with  agitation.  "  I  am  lost  and  crippled  for  life  !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "Look!  my  hand  is  nearly  withered. 
Neither  the  Ferryman  nor  the  Giant  would  set  me  across  the 
river,  because  I  am  indebted  to  the  stream.  In  vain  did  I 
tempt  them  with  a  hundred  cauliflowers  and  a  hundred 
onions :  they  insist  upon  the  stipulated  three,  and  not  an 
artichoke  can  be  found  in  this  neighborhood." 

"  Forget  your  distress,"  said  the  Dragon,  "  and  give  your 
assistance  here :  perhaps  you  will  be  relieved  at  the  same 
time.  Hasten,  and  find  out  the  Will-o'-the-wisps  ;  for,  though 
you  cannot  see  them  by  daylight,  you  may,  perhaps,  hear 
their  laughter  and  their  motions.  If  you  make  good  speed, 
the  Giant  may  yet  transport  you  across  the  river,  and  you 
may  find  the  man  with  the  lamp  and  send  him  hither." 

The  old  woman  made  as  much  haste  as  possible,  and  the 
Dragon  showed  as  much  impatience  for  her  return  as  the  Lily. 
But,  sad  to  say,  the  golden  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  shed- 
ding their  last  beams  upon  the  highest  tops  of  the  trees,  and 
lengthening  the  mountain  shadows  over  lake  and  meadow. 
The  motions  of  the  Dragon  showed  increased  impatience,  and 
the  Lily  was  dissolved  in  tears. 

In  this  moment  of  distress  the  Dragon  looked  anxiously 
round  :  she  feared  every  instant  that  the  sun  would  set,  and 
that  decay  would  penetrate  within  the  magic  circle,  and  exert 
its  fell  influence  upon  the  corpse  of  the  beautiful  youth.  She 
looked  into  the  heavens,  and  caught  sight  of  the  purple  wings 


378  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

• 

and  breast  of  the  hawk,  which  were  illumined  \)\  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun.  Her  restlessness  betrayed  her  joy  at  the 
good  omen  ;  and  she  was  not  deceived,  for  instantly  after- 
wards she  saw  the  man  with  the  lamp  sliding  across  the  lake 
as  if  he  had  skates  on  his  feet. 

The  Dragon  did  not  alter  her  position  ;  but  the  Lily,  rising 
from  her  seat,  exclaimed,  "  What  good  spirit  has  sent  you 
thus  opportunely  when  you  are  so  much  longed  for  and  re- 
quired ?  ' ' 

"  The  Spirit  of  my  Lamp  impels  me,"  replied  the  old  man, 
"•  and  the  hawk  conducts  me  hither.  The  lamp  flickers  when 
I  am  needed ;  and  I  immediately  look  to  the  heavens  for  a 
sign,  when  some  bird  or  meteor  points  the  way  I  should  go. 
Be  tranquil,  beautiful  maiden  :  I  know  not  if  I  can  help  you  ; 
one  alone  can  do  but  little,  but  he  can  avail  who  in  the  proper 
hour  unites  his  strength  with  others.  We  must  wait  and 
hope."  Then  turning  to  the  Dragon,  he  said,  "  Keep  your 
circle  closed;"  and,  seating  himself  upon  a  hillock  at  his 
side,  he  shed  a  light  upon  the  corpse  of  the  youth.  "  Now 
bring  the  little  canary-bird,"  he  continued,  "  and  lay  it  also 
within  the  circle." 

The  maiden  took  the  little  creature  from  the  basket,  and 
followed  the  directions  of  the  old  man. 

The  sun  had  set  in  the  mean  time  ;  and,  as  the  shades  of 
evening  closed  around,  not  only  the  Dragon  and  the  Lamp 
cast  their  customary  light,  but  the  veil  of  the  Lily  was  illu- 
mined with  a  soft  brilliancy,  and  caused  her  pale  cheeks  and 
her  white  robe  to  beam  like  the  dawn  of  morning,  and 
clothed  her  with  inexpressible  grace.  They  gazed  at  each 
other  with  silent  emotions  :  anxiety  and  sorrow  were  softened 
by  hope  of  approaching  happiness. 

To  the  delight  of  all,  the  old  woman  appeared  with  the 
lively  Will-o'-the-wisps,  who  must  have  led  a  prodigal  life  of 
late,  for  they  looked  wonderfully  thin,  but  behaved  all  the 
more  politely  to  the  princess  and  the  other  young  ladies. 
With  an  air  of  confidence,  and  much  force  of  expression, 
they  discoursed  upon  ordinary  topics,  and  were  much  struck 
by  the  charm  which  the  shining  veil  shed  over  the  beautiful 
Lily  and  her  companions.  The  young  ladies  cast  down  their 
eyes  with  modest  looks,  and  their  beauty  was  heightened  by 
the  praise  it  called  forth.  Every  one  was  happy  and  con- 
tented, not  excepting  even  the  old  woman.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  assurance  of  her  husband  that  her  hand  would  not 
continue  to  wither  whilst  the  Lamp  shone  upon  it,  she  con- 


THE   GERMAX  EMIGRANTS.  379 

• 

tinued  to  assert,  that,  if  things  went  on  thus,  it  would  dis- 
appear entirely  before  midnight. 

The  old  man  with  the  lamp  had  listened  attentively  to  the 
speech  of  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  and  was  charmed  to  observe 
that  the  beautiful  Lily  was  pleased  and  flattered  with  their 
compliments.  Midnight  had  actually  come  before  they  were 
aware.  The  old  man  looked  up  to  the  stars,  and  spoke  thus  : 
"  We  are  met  at  a  fortunate  hour:  let  each  fulfil  his  office, 
let  each  discharge  his  duty  ;  and  a  general  happiness  will  alle- 
viate one  individual  trouble,  as  a  universal  sorrow  destroys 
particular  joys." 

After  these  observations  a  mysterious  murmur  arose  ;  for 
every  one  present  spoke  for  himself,  and  mentioned  what  he 
had  to  do :  the  three  maidens  alone  were  silent.  One  had 
fallen  asleep  near  the  harp,  the  other  beside  the  fan,  and  the 
third  leaning  against  the  ivory  chair :  and  no  one  could  blame 
them ;  for,  in  truth,  it  was  late.  The  Will-o'-the-wisps, 
after  paying  some  trivial  compliments  to  the  other  ladies, 
including  even  the  attendants,  attached  themselves  finally  to 
the  Lily,  by  whose  beauty  they  were  attracted. 

"  Take  the  mirror,"  said  the  old  man  to  the  hawk,  "  and 
illumine  the  fair  sleepers  with  the  first  beams  of  the  sun,  and 
rouse  them  from  their  slumbers  by  the  light  reflected  from 
heaven." 

The  Dragon  now  began  to  move  :  she  broke  up  the  circle, 
and  in  long  windings  moved  slowly  to  the  river.  The  Will- 
o'-the-wisps  followed  her  in  solemn  procession,  and  they 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  the  most  serious  personages. 
The  old  woman  and  her  husband  took  up  the  basket,  the  soft 
light  of  which  had  hitherto  been  scarcely  observed ;  but  it 
now  became  clearer  and  more  brilliant.  They  laid  the  body 
of  the  youth  within  it,  with  the  canary-bird  reposing  upon  his 
breast,  upon  which  the  basket  raised  itself  into  the  air,  and 
floated  over  the  head  of  the  old  woman  ;  and  she  followed 
the  steps  of  the  Will-o'-the-wisps.  The  beautiful  Lily,  taking 
Mops  in  her  arms,  walked  after  the  old  woman ;  and  the 
man  with  the  lamp  closed  the  procession. 

The  whole  neighborhood  was  brilliantly  illuminated  with 
all  these  various  lights.  They  all  observed  with  astonish- 
ment, on  approaching  the  river,  that  it  was  spanned  by  a 
majestic  arch,  whereby  the  benevolent  Dragon  had  prepared 
them  a  lustrous  passage  across.  The  transparent  jewels  of 
which  the  bridge  was  composed  were  objects  of  no  less  aston- 
ishment by  day  than  was  their  wondrous  brilliancy  by  night. 


380  THE   RECREATIONS   OF 

The  clear  arch  above  cut  sharply  against  the  dark  sky  ;  whilst 
vivid  rays  of  light  beneath  shone  against  the  key-stone, 
revealing  the  firm  pliability  of  the  structure.  The  procession 
moved  slowly  over ;  and  the  Ferryman,  who  witnessed  the 
proceeding  from  his  hut,  surveyed  the  brilliant  arch  with 
awe,  no  less  than  the  wondrous  lights  as  they  journeyed 
across  it. 

As  soon  as  they  had  reached  the  opposite  bank,  the  bridge 
began  to  contract  as  usual,  and  sink  to  the  surface  of  the 
water.  The  Dragon  made  her  way  to  the  shore,  and  the 
basket  descended  to  the  ground.  The  Dragon  now  once  more 
assumed  a  circular  shape ;  and  the  old  man,  bowing  before 
her,  asked  what  she  had  determined  to  do. 

"To  sacrifice  myself  before  I  am  made  a  sacrifice:  only 
promise  me  that  you  will  leave  no  stone  on  the  land." 

The  old  man  promised,  and  then  addressed  the  beautiful 
Lily  thus:  "Touch  the  Dragon  with  your  left  hand,  and 
3rour  lover  with  your  right." 

The  beautiful  Lily  knelt  down,  and  laid  her  hands  upon 
the  Dragon  and  the  corpse.  In  an  instant  the  latter  became 
endued  with  life :  he  moved,  and  then  sat  upright.  The 
Lily  wished  to  embrace  him ;  but  the  old  man  held  her  back, 
and  assisted  the  youth  whilst  he  led  him  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  circle. 

The  youth  stood  erect,  the  little  canary  fluttered  upon  his 
shoulder,  but  his  mind  was  not  yet  restored.  His  eyes  were 
open ;  but  he  saw,  at  least  he  appeared  to  look  on,  every 
thing  with  indifference.  Scarcely  was  the  wonder  at  this  cir- 
cumstance appeased,  when  the  change  which  the  Dragon  had 
undergone  excited  attention.  Her  beautiful  and  slender  form 
was  converted  into  thousands  and  thousands  of  precious 
stones.  The  old  woman,  in  the  effort  to  seize  her  basket, 
had  struck  unintentionally  against  her,  after  which  nothing 
more  was  seen  of  the  figure  of  the  Dragon.  Only  a  heap  of 
brilliant  jewels  lay  in  the  grass.  The  old  man  immediately 
set  to  work  to  collect  them  into  his  basket,  a  task  in  which  he 
was  assisted  by  his  wife.  They  both  then  carried  the  basket 
to  an  elevated  spot  on  the  bank,  when  he  cast  the  entire  con- 
tents into  the  stream,  not,  however,  without  the  opposition  of 
his  wife  and  of  the  beautiful  Lily,  who  would  willingly  have 
appropriated  a  portion  of  the  treasure  to  themselves.  The 
jewels  gleamed  in  the  rippling  waters  *like  brilliant  stars,  and 
were  carried  away  by  the  stream ;  and  none  can  say  whether 
they  disappeared  in  the  distance  or  sank  to  the  bottom. 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  381 

"Young  gentlemen,"  then  said  the  old  man  respectfully 
to  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  "  I  will  now  point  out  your  path, 
and  lead  the  way  ;  and  you  will  render  us  the  greatest  service 
by  opening  the  doors  of  the  temple  through  which  we  must 
enter,  and  which  you  alone  can  unlock." 

The  Will-o'-the-wisps  bowed  politely,  and  took  their  post 
in  the  rear.  The  man  with  the  lamp  advanced  first  into  the 
rocks,  which  opened  of  their  own  accord  ;  the  youth  followed 
with  apparent  indifference  ;  with  silent  uncertainty  the  beau- 
tiful Lily  lingered  slowly  behind;  the  old  woman,  unwilling 
to  be  left  alone,  followed  after,  stretching  out  her  hand  that 
it  might  receive  the  rays  of  her  husband's  lamp  ;  the  proces- 
sion was  closed  by  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  and  their  bright 
flames  nodded  and  blended  with  each  other  as  if  they  were 
engaged  in  active  conversation.  They  had  not  gone  far  be- 
fore they  came  to  a  large  brazen  gate  which  was  fastened  by 
a  golden  lock.  The  old  man  thereupon  sought  the  assistance 
of  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  who  did  not  want  to  be  entreated, 
but  at  once  introduced  their  pointed  flames  into  the  lock,  when 
the  wards  yielded  to  their  influence.  The  brass  resounded 
as  the  doors  flew  wide  asunder,  and  displayed  the  venerable 
statues  of  the  kings  illuminated  by  the  advancing  lights. 
Each  individual  in  turn  bowed  to  the  reverend  potentates 
with  respect,  and  the  Will-o'-the-wisps  were  prodigal  of 
their  lambent  salutations. 

After  a  short  pause  the  Golden  King  asked,  "  Whence  do 
you  come  ?  ' ' 

"  From  the  world,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"  And  whither  are  you  going?  "  inquired  the  Silver  King. 

"  Back  to  the  world,"  was  the  answer. 

"And  what  do  you  wish  with  us?"  asked  the  Brazen 
King. 

"  To  accompany  you,"  responded  the  old  man. 

The  fourth  king  was  about  to  speak,  when  the  golden  statue 
thus  addressed  the  Will-o'-the-wisps,  who  had  advanced 
towards  him:  "Depart  from  me.  My  gold  is  not  for 
you." 

They  then  turned  towards  the  Silver  King,  and  his  apparel 
assumed  the  golden  hue  of  their  yellow  flames.  "You  are 
•welcome,"  he  said,  "  but  I  cannot  feed  you.  Satisfy  your- 
selves elsewhere,  and  then  bring  me  your  light." 

They  departed  ;  and,  stealing  unobserved  past  the  Brazen 
King,  they  attached  themselves  to  the  King  composed  of 
various  metals. 


382  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

' '  Who  will  rule  the  world  ? ' '  inquired  the  latter  in  inar- 
ticulate tones. 

"  He  who  stands  erect,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"  That  is  I,"  replied  the  King. 

'Then  it  will  be  revealed,"  said  the  old  man,  "  for  the 
time  is  come." 

The  beautiful  Lily  fell  upon  his  neck,  and  kissed  him 
tenderly.  "Kind  father,"  she  said,  "a  thousand  thanks  for 
allowing  me  to  hear  this  comforting  word  for  the  third  time  : " 
and,  so  saying,  she  felt  compelled  to  grasp  the  old  man's  arm  ; 
for  the  earth  began  to  tremble  beneath  them  :  the  old  woman 
and  the  youth  clung  to  each  other,  whilst  the  pliant  Will-o'- 
the-wisps  felt  not  the  slightest  inconvenience. 

It  was  evident  that  the  whole  temple  was  in  motion  ;  and, 
like  a  ship  which  pursues  its  quiet  way  from  the  harbor  when 
the  anchor  is  raised,  the  depths  of  the  earth  seemed  to  open 
before  it,  whilst  it  clove  its  way  through.  It  encountered  no 
obstacle,  no  rock  opposed  its  progress.  Presently  a  very  fine 
rain  penetrated  through  the  cupola.  The  old  man  continued 
to  support  the  beautiful  Lily,  and  whispered,  "We  are  now 
under  the  river,  and  shall  soon  attain  the  goal."  Presently 
they  thought  the  motion  ceased  ;  but  they  were  deceived,  the 
temple  still  moved  onwards.  A  strange  sound  was  now 
heard  above  them :  beams  and  broken  rafters  burst  in  dis- 
jointed fragments  though  the  opening  of  the  cupola.  The 
Lily  and  the  old  woman  retreated  in  alarm :  the  man  with 
the  lamp  stood  by  the  youth,  and  encouraged  him  to  remain. 
The  Ferryman's  little  hut  had  been  ploughed  from  the  ground 
by  the  advance  of  the  temple,  and,  in  its  gradual  fall,  buried 
the  youth  and  the  old  man. 

The  women  screamed  in  alarm,  and  the  temple  shook  like 
a  vessel  which  strikes  upon  a  hidden  rock.  Anxiously  the 
women  wandered  round  the  hut  in  darkness  :  the  doors  were 
shut,  and  no  one  answered  their  knocking.  They  continued 
to  knock  more  loudly,  when  at  last  the  wood  began  to  ring 
with  sounds :  the  magic  power  of  the  lamp,  which  was  en- 
closed within  the  hut,  changed  it  into  silver,  and  presently  its 
very  form  was  altered  ;  for  the  noble  metal,  refusing  to  assume 
the  form  of  planks,  posts,  and  rafters,  was  converted  into  a 
glorious  building  of  artistic  workmanship :  it  seemed  as  if 
a  smaller  temple  had  grown  up  within  the  large  one,  or  at 
least  an  altar  worthy  of  its  beauty. 

The  noble  youth  ascended  a  staircase  in  the  interior,  whilst 
the  man  with  the  lamp  shed  light  upon  his  way ;  and  another 


THE   GERMAN   EMIGRANTS.  383 

figure  lent  him  support,  clad  in  a  short  white  garment,  and 
holding  in  his  hand  a  silver  rudder :  it  was  easy  to  recognize 
the  Ferryman,  the  former  inhabitant  of  the  transformed 
hut. 

The  beautiful  Lily  ascended  the  outward  steps  which  led 
from  the  temple  to  the  altar,  but  was  compelled  to  remain 
separated  from  her  lover.  The  old  woman,  whose  hand  con- 
tinued to  grow  smaller  whilst  the  light  of  the  lamp  was  ob- 
scured, exclaimed,  "Am  I  still  doomed  to  be  unhappy  amid 
so  many  miracles?  will  no  miracle  restore  my  hand?  " 

Her  husband  pointed  to  the  open  door,  exclaiming,  "  See, 
the  day  dawns  !  hasten,  and  bathe  in  the  river !  " 

"What  advice!"  she  answered:  "shall  I  not  become 
wholly  black,  and  dissolve  into  nothing?  for  I  have  not  yet 
discharged  my  debt." 

"  Be  silent,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  follow  me :  all  debts 
are  wiped  away." 

The  old  woman  obeyed,  and  in  the  same  instant  the  light 
of  the  rising  sun  shone  upon  the  circle  of  the  cupola.  Then 
the  old  man,  advancing  between  the  youth  and  the  maiden, 
exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice,  "Three  things  have  sway  upon 
the  earth,  —  Wisdom,  Appearance,  and  Power." 

At  the  sound  of  the  first  word  the  Golden  King  arose  ;  at 
the  sound  of  the  second,  the  Silver  King ;  and  the  Brazen 
King  had  risen  at  the  sound  of  the  third,  when  the  fourth 
suddenly  sunk  awkwardly  to  the  earth.  The  Will-o'-the- 
wisps,  who  had  been  busily  employed  upon  him  till  this 
moment,  now  retreated :  though  paled  by  the  light  of  the 
morning,  they  seemed  in  good  condition,  and  sufficiently  bril- 
liant ;  for  they  had  with  much  dexterity  extracted  the  gold 
from  the  veins  of  the  colossal  statue  with  their  sharp-pointed 
tongues.  The  irregular  spaces  which  were  thus  displayed 
remained  for  some  time  exposed,  and  the  figure  preserved  its 
previous  form  ;  but  when  at  length  the  most  secret  veins  of 
gold  had  been  extracted,  the  statue  suddenly  fell  with  a  crash, 
and  formed  a  mass  of  shapeless  ruins. 

The  man  with  the  lamp  conducted  the  youth,  whose  eye 
was  still  fixed  upon  vacancy,  from  the  altar  towards  the 
Brazen  King.  At  the  foot  of  the  mighty  monarch  lay  a 
sword  in  a  brazen  sheath.  The  youth  bound  it  to  his  side. 
"  Take  the  weapon  in  your  left  hand,  and  keep  the  right 
hand  free,"  exclaimed  the  King. 

They  then  advanced  to  the  Silver  Monarch,  who  bent  his 
sceptre  towards  the  youth ;  the  latter  seized  it  with  his  left 


384  THE   RECREATIONS  OF 

hand :  and  the  King  addressed  him  in  soft  accents,  "  Feed  my 
sheep." 

When  they  reached  the  statue  of  the  Golden  King,  with 
paternal  benediction  the  latter  pressed  the  oaken  garland  on 
the  head  of  the  youth,  and  said,  "Acknowledge  the  high- 
est." 

The  old  man  had,  during  this  proceeding,  watched  the  youth 
attentively.  After  he  had  girded  on  the  sword,  his  breast 
heaved,  his  arm  was  firmer,  and  his  step  more  erect ;  and, 
after  he  had  touched  the  sceptre,  his  sense  of  power  appeared 
to  soften,  and  at  the  same  time,  by  an  inexpressible  charm, 
to  become  more  mighty ;  but,  when  his  waving  locks  were 
adorned  with  the  oaken  garland,  his  countenance  became  ani- 
mated, his  soul  beamed  from  his  eye ;  and  the  first  word  he 
uttered  was  ' '  Lily  ! ' ' 

"  Dear  Lily  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  hastened  to  ascend  the 
silver  stairs,  for  she  had  observed  his  progress  from  the  altar 
where  she  stood,  —  "dear  Lily,  what  can  man  desire  more 
blessed  than  the  innocence  and  the  sweet  affection  which  your 
love  brings  me?  O  my  friend!"  he  continued,  turning  to 
the  old  *nan,  and  pointing  to  the  three  sacred  statues,  "  se- 
cure and  glorious  is  the  kingdom  of  our  fathers  ;  but  you  have 
forgotten  to  enumerate  that  fourth  power,  which  exercises  an 
earlier,  more  universal,  and  certain  rule  over  the  world,  — the 
power  of  love." 

With  these  words  he  flung  his  arms  round  the  neck  of  the 
beautiful  maiden  :  she  had  cast  aside  her  veil,  and  her  cheeks 
were  tinged  with  a  blush  of  the  sweetest  and  most  inexpressi- 
ble beauty. 

The  old  man  now  observed,  with  a  smile,  "  Love  does  not 
rule,  but  controls  ;  and  that  is  better." 

During  all  this  delight  and  enchantment,  no  one  had  ob- 
served that  the  sun  was  now  high  in  heaven  ;  and  through  the 
open  gates  of  the  temple  most  unexpected  objects  were  per- 
ceived. An  empty  space,  of  large  dimensions,  was  surrounded 
by  pillars,  and  terminated  by  a  long  and  splendid  bridge, 
whose  many  arches  stretched  across  the  river.  On  each  side 
was  a  footpath,  wide  and  convenient  for  passengers,  of  whom 
many  thousands  were  busily  employed  in  crossing  over :  the 
wide  road  in  the  centre  was  crowded  with  flocks  and  herds, 
and  horsemen  and  carriages  ;  and  all  streamed  over  without 
impeding  each  other's  progress.  All  were  in  raptures  at  the 
union  of  convenience  and  beauty  ;  and  the  new  king  and  his 
spouse  were  as  much  charmed  with  the  animation  and  activity 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  385 

of  this  great  concourse  as  they  were  with  their  own  recipro- 
cal love. 

"  Honor  the  Dragon,"  said  the  man  with  the  lamp:  "to 
her  you  are  indebted  for  life,  and  your  people  for  the  bridge 
whereby  these  neighboring  shores  are  animated  and  con- 
nected. Those  shining  precious  stones  which  still  float  by 
are  the  remains  of  her  self-sacrifice,  and  form  the  foundation- 
stones  of  this  glorious  bridge,  upon  which  she  has  erected 
herself  to  subsist  forever." 

The  approach  of  four  beautiful  maidens,  who  advanced  to 
the  door  of  the  temple,  prevented  any  inquiry  into  this  won- 
derful mystery.  Three  of  them  were  recognized  as  the 
attendants  of  the  beautiful  Lily,  by  the  harp,  the  fan,  and 
the  ivory  chair ;  but  the  fourth,  though  more  beautiful  than 
the  other  three,  was  a  stranger.  She,  however,  played  with  the 
others  with  sisterly  sportiveness,  ran  with  them  through  the 
temple,  and  ascended  the  silver  stairs. 

"  Thou  dearest  of  creatures  !  "  said  the  man  with  the  lamp, 
addressing  the  beautiful  Lily,  "you  will  surely  believe  me 
for  the  future.  Happy  for  thee,  and  every  other  creature, 
who  shall  bathe  this  morning  in  the  waters  of  the  river !  " 

The  old  woman,  who  had  been  transformed  into  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  and  of  whose  former  appearance  no  trace  remained, 
embraced  the  man  with  the  lamp  with  tender  caresses,  which 
he  returned  with  affection. 

"  If  I  am  too  old  for  you,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  "you 
may  to-day  select  another  bridegroom  ;  for  no  tie  can  hence- 
rforth  be  considered  binding  which  is  not  this  day  renewed." 

"  But  are  you  not  aware  that  you  also  have  become 
young?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  he  replied.  "  If  I  appear  to 
you  to  be  a  gallant  youth,  I  take  your  hand  anew,  and  hope 
for  a  thousand  years  of  happiness." 

The  Queen  welcomed  her  new  friend,  and  advanced  with 
her  and  the  rest  of  her  companions  to  the  altar :  whilst  the 
King,  supported  by  the  two  men,  pointed  to  the  bridge,  and 
surveyed  with  wonder  the  crowd  of  passengers ;  but  his  joy 
was  soon  overshadowed  by  observing  an  object  which  gave 
him  pain.  The  Giant,  who  had  just  awakened  from  his 
morning  sleep,  stumbled  over  the  bridge,  and  gave  rise  to 
the  greatest  confusion.  He  was,  as  usual,  but  half  awake, 
and  had  risen  with  the  intention  of  bathing  in  the  neighboring 
cove  ;  but  he  stumbled  instead  upon  firm  land,  and  found 
himself  feeling  his  way  upon  the  broad  highway  of  the  bridge. 


386  THE  RECREATIONS  OF 

And,  whilst  he  went  clumsily  along  in  the  midst  of  men  and 
animals,  his  presence,  though  a  matter  of  astonishment  to  all, 
was  felt  by  none ;  but  when  the  sun  shone  in  his  eyes,  and  he 
raised  his  hand  to  shade  them,  the  shadow  of  his  enormous 
fist  fell  amongst  the  crowd  with  such  careless  violence,  that 
both  men  and  animals  huddled  together  in  promiscuous  con- 
fusion, and  either  sustained  personal  injury,  or  ran  the  risk 
of  being  driven  into  the  water. 

The  King,  observing  this  calamity,  with  an  involuntary 
movement  placed  his  hand  upon  his  sword,  but,  upon  reflec- 
tion, turned  his  eyes  on  his  sceptre,  and  then  on  the  lamp 
and  the  rudder  of  his  companions. 

"  I  guess  your  thought,"  said  the  man  with  the  lamp,  "  but 
we  are  powerless  against  this  monster :  be  tranquil ;  he  in- 
jures for  the  last  time,  and  happily  his  shadow  is  turned 
from  us." 

In  the  mean  time  the  Giant  had  approached,  and,  over- 
powered with  astonishment  at  what  he  saw,  let  his  hands 
sink  down  :  he  became  powerless  for  injury,  and,  gazing  with 
surprise,  entered  the  court-yard. 

He  was  moving  straight  towards  the  door  of  the  temple, 
when  he  felt  himself  suddenly  held  fast  to  the  earth.  He 
stood  like  a  colossal  pillar  constructed  of  red,  shining  stones  ; 
and  his  shadow  indicated  the  hours,  which  were  marked  in  a 
circle  on  the  ground,  not,  however,  in  figures,  but  in  noble 
and  significant  effigies. 

The  King  was-  not  a  little  delighted  to  see  the  shadow  of 
the  monster  rendered  harmless  ;  and  the  Queen  was  not  less* 
astonished,  as  she  advanced  from  the  altar  with  her  maidens, 
all  adorned  with  the  greatest  magnificence,  to  observe  the 
strange  wonder  which  almost  covered  the  whole  prospect  from 
the  temple  to  the  bridge. 

In  the  mean  time  the  people  had  crowded  after  the  Giant, 
and,  surrounding  him  as  he  stood  still,  had  observed  his  trans- 
formation with  the  utmost  awe.  They  thence  bent  their  steps 
towards  the  temple,  of  the  existence  of  which  they  now 
seemed  to  be  for  the  first  time  aware,  and  thronged  the 
doorways. 

The  hawk  was  now  observed  aloft,  towering  over  the  build- 
ing, and  carrying  the  mirror,  with  which  he  caught  the  light 
of  the  sun,  and  turned  the  rays  upon  the  multifarious  group 
which  stood  around  the  altar.  The  King,  the  Queen,  and 
their  attendants,  illumined  by  heavenly  light,  appeared  be- 
neath the  dim  arches  of  the  temple :  their  subjects  fell  pros- 


THE  GERMAN  EMIGRANTS.  387 

tratc  before  them.  When  they  had  recovered,  and  risen 
again,  the  King  and  his  attendants  had  descended  to  the 
altar,  in  order  to  reach  his  palace  by  a  less  obstructed  path  ; 
and  the  people  dispersed  through  the  temple  to  satisfy  their 
curiosity.  They  beheld  with  astonishment  the  three  kings, 
who  stood  erect,  and  were  all  the  more  anxious  to  know  what 
could  be  concealed  behind  the  curtain  in  the  fourth  niche ; 
since,  whatever  kindness  might  have  prompted  the  deed,  a 
thoughtful  discretion  had  extended  a  costly  covering  over  the 
ruins  of  the  fallen  king,  which  no  eye  cared  to  penetrate, 
and  no  profane  hand  dared  to  uplift. 

There  was  no  end  to  the  astonishment  and  wonder  of  the 
people,  and  the  dense  throng  would  have  been  crushed  in 
the  temple  if  their  attention  had  not  been  attracted  once  more 
to  the  court  without. 

To  their  gi'eat  surprise,  a  shower  of  gold  pieces  fell  as  if 
from  the  air,  resounding  upon  the  marble  pavement,  and 
caused  a  contest  and  commotion  amongst  the  passers-by. 
Several  times  this  wonder  was  repeated  in  different  places,  at 
some  distance  from  each  other.  It  is  not  difficult  to  infer 
that  this  feat  was  the  work  of  the  retreating  Will-o'-the- 
wisps,  who,  having  extracted  the  gold  from  the  limbs  of  the 
mutilated  King,  dispersed  it  abroad  in  this  joyous  manner. 
The  covetous  crowd  continued  their  contentions  for  some 
time  longer,  pressing  hither  and  thither,  and  inflicting  wounds 
upon  each  other,  till  the  shower  of  gold  pieces  ceased  to  fall. 
The  multitude  at  length  dispersed  gradually,  each  one  pur- 
suing his  own  course ;  and  the  bridge,  to  this  day,  continues 
to  swarm  with  travellers ;  and  the  temple  is  tlie  most  fre- 
quented in  the  world. 


